The Times That Never Were
by Almariado
Summary: Before Newton gets to Peter, a mysterious stranger intercepts him, changing the course of the events we saw on the show. Set on the end of "Northwest Passage" goes AU from there.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Nop they're not mine, just playing with them.  
A/N: This takes place in the end of season's two "Northwest Passage" episode, before Newton gets to Peter, it goes AU from there.  
Big thanks go to Crystalline Green, she was more than a beta reader, she corrected and gave suggestions that improved the story a lot.  
Without her this story would never have seen the light of day.  
Any mistakes you find are totally mine, Crys can only do so much.**  
**I'm not a native English speaker, so expect misspellings and other kind of errors.**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Prologue**

She walked through the woods almost stumbling on a root. Looking up at the sky while crossing a forest in Washington State could do that to you.

Still, she couldn't help but marvel at the blue of the sky. It was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was shining, pouring its rays through the trees giving an ethereal look to the landscape in front of her.

She stopped and closed her eyes, she took a deep breath savouring the fresh air which invaded her lungs and the oxygen intoxicated her.

If she ended up in the wrong place, then it was not so bad, because she thought this must be what heaven looked like.

But she couldn't stop to enjoy it. She resumed her fast pace headed for her target, she could not fail, she would not fail, everything they had fought for, all the planning they had done, every sacrifice made and life lost, would only be honoured and made worthwhile if she succeeded in this mission.

She would see it through no matter what. Only death could stop her and she had stopped fearing death a long time ago.

She finally reached the motel where she knew he was staying, she sat down not far from his room, waiting for him. If her intel was correct it wouldn't be long until he arrived.A shiver of anticipation ran through her, she was really going to come face to face with him. She felt wetness on her cheeks and wiped it away. She could not let her emotions take hold of her. She took a deep cleansing breath and prepared herself for what lay ahead.

* * *

Peter stepped out of the car and thanked Ann for the ride.

He headed to his room, his thoughts lingering on Ann's words. Finding a place he could call his own.

For years he thought he didn't need such a thing. He was pretty much ok with wondering from place to place only staying long enough to pull a job that would get him through for a few months, until it was time to leave and look somewhere else, for something else, never stopping, always moving.

Until Olivia.

She changed everything. She changed him, or maybe she had just drawn out of him what was there all along, hidden behind the bitterness and the anger of having a mad scientist for a father who had been absent most of the time - even before he was locked up in a mental institution - and being brought up by a mother who he now knew just couldn't handle being left alone with a copy of her long dead son.

Until a few weeks ago he thought he had finally settled down, had found a place he could call home.

And he had Olivia to thank for that. She had given him a home and a family.

He couldn't help but think that she must have known the truth, she would have found out right after Jacksonville.

That would explain everything.

He remembered the night they had returned from Jacksonville like it had happened yesterday.

He had felt butterflies in his stomach when she said yes to a night out with him once they came back from New York and this on the same day he almost kissed her.

He remembered the thrill of anticipation and how nervous he was when he was getting ready to meet her. He felt like a teenager about to go on his first date. They had gone out for drinks before, but that night was going to be different, he was going to stop holding back on his feelings for her.

But nothing went as he expected. She was clearly nervous and uncomfortable, he could tell it wasn't for the same reason he was, she kept avoiding looking at him and after a few drinks she excused herself telling him she was tired from the trip and needed rest. She had clearly regretted saying yes to him. Back then he had accepted it thinking she didn't want the same things he did, as much has it hurt him acknowledging it. They would remain friends none the less.

Now he knew the real reason behind her change of demeanour. She had said yes to him with a smile on her face, a smile full of promise of what was to come. But she must have figured it out when she came to meet him at his house, so she had retreated and raised her walls once again.

How could he blame her? Who would want to be romantically involved with an ex-con man from another universe?

She already had too much craziness in her life, she could do without adding to that with a boyfriend from another world.

He had been tempted to answer her numerous calls after he left Boston, before he threw his phone away.

He even thought about calling her several times after that, at least to say goodbye. He knew how she must have felt guilty from keeping the truth from him. He wanted so much to tell her that he wasn't angry at her. That he understood that she was caught up in the middle of a fucked up situation that was not her fault, and that blame belonged with the man he had thought was his real father, who was in fact his kidnapper and who had been lying to him all his life.

But he knew he couldn't, because if he heard her voice, if she asked him to come back he would be unable to say no.

But he couldn't go back, the thought of being in the same room, even in the same town with the man he once knew as his father, sickened him.  
By now Broyles must have told Olivia where he was, so he knew he didn't had much time before she would arrive there. He had to go once again, because seeing her would be unbearable.

Deep in thought, he hardly noticed the young woman standing not far from the door to his room.

"Peter Bishop?" she asked as she approached him, although she already knew the answer.

He was startled by it, he quickly turned to see a young blond woman in her early 20's. He wasn't expecting this.

"Who are you? What do you want? Did Broyles send you?" he asked her with a deep frown on his face.

She raised her hands in a sign of surrender, trying to make him understand that she wasn't a threat to him.

"No, Broyles didn't sent me, I swear that I come in peace. I just need to talk to you. It's very important that you listen to what I have to say. I came a long way just to do this, many people risked their lives so I could be here."

Peter was now puzzled by what the young woman had said, the pleading look she gave him reminded him so much of another blond woman just like her, in another time and another place.

"Risked their lives? What are you talking about? And you still didn't tell me who you are."

"No I didn't," she paused and took a deep breath before continuing, "My name is Henrietta, Henrietta Bishop. But you can call me Etta."

* * *

**A/N This is actually a reboot of season 5. The story will have two parts.**  
**Part one (the next chapters) will take place in the future invaded by the Observers and will explain the events that brought Etta to this point of the original time line.**  
**The second part will pick up immediately after the prologue.**  
**I know Etta is from the reset timeline (Season 4) and I'm putting her in the original timeline. It will all be explained.**  
**Remember, this is sci-fi.**  
**I hope it will all make sense and it's not too confusing.**  
**The plot of the story is pretty much laid out and I do intend to finish it.**


	2. Part 1 - The Raid

**_(Part 1 - The Future)_  
Chapter 2 - The Raid**

_Boston 2035 – 20 years after the Observer's invasion_

"Will you hurry up, please?" Eddie was definitely not happy with his cousin.

They had stormed the Loyalist facility with some ease due to the low number of guards posted to it. The resistance had received a tip about a small shipment of anti-matter grenades which had been delivered to the facility 'by mistake'. Apparently one of their informants with the Loyalists manage to displace the shipment.

Simon Foster's resistance group which Etta and Eddie were part off, quickly came up with a plan to ensure the grenades would not reach their original destination. They knew they hadn't much time before the mistake would be discovered.

"Don't be such a girl, I'm almost there," Etta continued to furiously type in the holographic terminal, not even bothering looking at him.

After taking care of the few guards and securing the facility almost single handed, Etta noticed that the old building was nothing more than a kind of warehouse, decrepit and gloomy with only two small windows, caked with years' worth of grime which prevented most of what little daylight they had nowadays from getting in. There where boxes with uniforms, chairs and desks piled up and other meaningless items of no consequence to them.

But the facility did have something else that raised her interest. There was a small office with four terminals which the loyalists used for inventory, one of them was still logged in as a member of loyalist personnel had been working there when they arrived, consulting a list with masses of data. The odd thing about the list was that instead of items, it contained addresses. Her curiosity spiked when she noticed the familiarity of three of the locations displayed on screen. She had visited each of them before, looking for her parents.

It was a list of ambered locations, containing information of an enormous number of sites covering New England and part of New York State. The loyalist had confessed, before Etta knocked him out, that he was doing side businesses with the amber gypsies.

There was a legend running around the resistance that the original Fringe team had ambered themselves in a secret location in order to evade capture by the Observers.

The legend had been around for quite some time and a few people still believed in it.

For Etta it was not a legend, it was the truth, no matter what her aunt Rachel had told her all those years ago about her parents being dead.

Etta was not about to let this opportunity slip by her, she stayed behind after their group left to load their precious shipment, trying to copy the encrypted list to a small disk. Only Eddie remained with her.

"Everyone's gone! We're the only ones left and we don't know if the guards managed to send a message to their headquarters warning the place was being attacked. If they did, the facility will be swarming with loyalists in no time Etta! And if we're really 'lucky' the baldies will come right behind once they figure out what it was we stole." Eddie paused waiting for a reaction from his cousin. But she gave none, instead she focused only on continuing her mission, almost oblivious to her surroundings.

"You may be able to deflect their readings, but I don't feel like having my brain turned into mush today. I very much appreciate the ability to think and I would definitely like to live to see another day."

This got Etta's attention, "Don't worry couz, nothing's going to happen if they read you, because there's no brain in that pretty head of yours," she said with a grin, still focused on the task at hand.

Eddie looked at her, rolling his eyes. "You're right, I have no brain. 'Cause if I had one I would be long gone and you would be left here to face them on your own."  
Etta removed the small disk from the terminal and turned to her cousin, giving him a pat on the arm.

"You're brainless and adorable, that's the only reason I let you hang around."

They were about to leave when someone stepped into the open doorway blocking their way out. They quickly raised their weapons taking aim at the silhouetted figure, ready to take him out if necessary.

The intruder quickly raised his hands in a sign of surrender, "It's me, Mike! Don't shoot!" he said with panic in his voice.

Etta shook her head and glared, "Talk about brainless people. Nice way to almost meet your creator, Mickey boy. Try that again and you'll no longer need to be afraid of being read by an Observer."

"Simon sent me. Jesus Etta, don't be such a bitch! He asked me to tell you if you guys don't get your asses in the van right now, you'll be on your own."

"If you move that big ass of yours out of the way, we'll be right there." Etta said moving towards the exit. She leant into Mike's ear on her way out. "Call me bitch one more time, I'd really like that."

Eddie followed, shooting him a glare, "You're lucky she's in a good mood." They quickly exited the facility and made their way to the waiting van, where a very agitated Simon was waiting for them. He turned to face them as they clambered in the back, throwing Etta a very annoyed look. "We'll talk when we get to the hideout. Let's move!"

The driver hit the accelerator pulling away from the facility. They made their way through the streets and alleys of Boston, changing vehicles to avoid being detected, the journey only took twenty minutes before they arrived at their destination.

* * *

Their hideout was a drycleaners, with easy access to a network of alleys from the back. The business was just a front for the resistance hideout. Not many people had money or inclination to bother with dry-cleaning clothes these days, but it was still a good way to hide in plain sight. The irony of it was that it was a profitable business because many loyalists and what remained of the upper class of their crumbling society, were clients. It also allowed the coming and going of vans and trucks without raising much suspicion.

With the speed and efficiency of practiced teamwork, they unloaded the precious cargo and hid the van in the building's garage. Simon signalled to both Etta and Eddie to follow him.

Once they reached Simon's makeshift office, he closed the door and turned to the pair. "The next time you pull a stunt like that I won't even bother sending someone to get you, I'll just leave you there!"

Eddie looked to the floor embarrassed, while Etta stared at Simon with an unreadable look on her face.

"Now if you'd care to explain what was so interesting about that terminal to make you risk our operation?"

Etta remained stoic. The silence was heavy, Eddie knew Etta wouldn't flinch and that Simon wouldn't rest until he got some answers. He scratched worriedly at his one day stubble. "We saw some intel there that may be useful to the resistance and..."

Etta put a hand on is arm. "It's ok Eddie," she said giving him a small smile. She turned her attention back to Simon. "I was copying a list of ambered locations"  
Simon let out a breath in frustration.

"Your crusade to look for you dead parents will cost you your life someday Etta! Worse still you will probably take someone else with you. And you Eddie, if you have a death wish like your cousin here, then by all means, be my guest! But you will not do it while on a mission headed by me. You will not put my team on the line because you want to chase after some fucking ghosts!"

Etta's blank look transformed quickly, her anger rising as Simon struck a raw nerve, "My parents are not dead," she said with a low but threatening voice, her rage threatening to boil over. Eddie grabbed her hand and gave it a small squeeze trying to calm her down.

Sensing Etta's barely contained fury, Simon took a deep breath before he continued, "Etta, you're a damn good fighter, one of my best. That's the only reason I haven't kicked you out so far, but you're pushing too hard," he shakes his head and looks at her with sadness in his eyes, "you have to let them go Etta, they're gone. You're wasting time and energy in a futile quest, I can't afford to lose you, let alone allow you to jeopardise anyone else."

Etta looked Simon in the eyes for a few seconds, she hated it when people tried to talk her out of her search for her parents. Of all people, hearing it from Simon, it hurt her the most. She had always admired him since the moment they met, his strong sense of justice and the fact that he was always level-headed even in the worst situations, which gave her confidence in following his orders.

She wished he could understand that while there was a shred of hope her parents were alive, even if it was some godforsaken legend, she had to keep searching.  
"Is that all?" she asked coldly.

Simon let out a breath, clearly disappointed. He knew how driven she was. Telling her to stop looking for her parents would be as productive as trying to put out a forest wildfire with a water pistol. So he waved her off.

Etta stormed out of Simon's office without another word. Eddie was about to follow when Simon turned to him, "Try your best to control her Eddie. There's only so much I can do to protect her. Being a Fringe Agent doesn't mean I can always have her back."

Eddie nodded and gave him a small smile. "I always try." he said with a sad shake of his head before he took his leave to look for Etta.

He found her outside, near their vehicle, where she was studying the small disk she had brought back from the Loyalist facility. She sensed his approach and turned to him. "When I decrypt the intel I copied to the disk, I'll show him who's a ghost," she looked back at the disk, like if it was the most precious thing she had held in her entire life. "This is a list of locations with ambered people, many of them I didn't know about. There's a chance my parents are trapped within one of them."

Eddie looked at her intently. After Ella died at the hands of the Loyalists, Etta became even more driven in the search for her parents. He knows how much she missed Ella, he missed his big sister too.

He guessed this was her way of coping with her cousin's death.

His aunt Liv had sent Etta to Chicago to live with them right after the invasion when she was three years old. She was pratically raised with them, they were like brother and sisters.

Ella's death took a heavy toll on them, especially on Etta.

She also could not accept that her parents were forever lost to her, not when most of the people she loved were already gone. Her cousin, her grandfather Walter and her aunt Astrid, from whom they hadn't had any communication in years. Eddie thought they too must be have been dead by then.

He didn't have the heart to deny her, he knew that it was what kept her going. If she stopped, if she believed they were dead, then all hope would be gone.  
Eddie knew that Etta believed that her parents were the key to defeating the baldy bastards and without them, it would be pointless.

From Etta's point of view, the resistance was outnumbered, out gunned and were nowhere near strong enough to defeat the Observers. They just kept on fighting because there was really nothing else they could do. They were just a group of people who refused to give up, even if it was a futile effort.

There was something almost religious in Etta's belief that her parents would 'rise' from the dead and defeat the Observers, like a messiah sent from God to save humanity from their impending doom. Without that belief Eddie knew she would just give up.

So he indulged her in her mad quest.

When Eddie was a kid, when there were still some books around, he remembered his mother reading to him the children's version of the book by the Spanish writer Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quijote de la Mancha. The delusional nobleman from 17th century Spain, who thought he was a Knight and lived by the code of chivalry, followed by his faithful squire, the humble farmer Sancho Panza. He remembered listening in awe as his mother would read to him about their adventures, most of them fantasies from Don Quijote's deluded mind.

The most famous off all, their encounter with the windmills, which Don Quijote thought were dangerous giants. Against Sancho's warnings Don Quijote still charged against the windmills and even knowing it was a fools errand, Sancho followed him. Eddie couldn't understand why Sancho would go with him in a such demented journey. His mother would tell him that real friends would support and help each other, no matter the mistakes they made. Even if you know they're wrong and that they might end up getting hurt 'tilting at windmills'.

Right now, he is Etta's Sancho.

Eddie was deep in thought when a man approached them, he was in his late 40's, maybe early 50's, and his once blonde hair had now almost entirely replaced by grey. "Can I help you?" Eddie asked.

The man paused, regarding them both with a tilt of his head, as if sizing them up. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you both, in private."  
Etta frowned noticing the odd way the man tilted his head. She then asked, "You're Donald, right, the tech guy Simon brought in last week?"

"Yes that is correct."

"What's so important that you have to talk to us in private?"

Donald looked around making sure no one was listening in, "I used to work with your grandfather, Walter Bishop."

* * *

**A/N Thank you to everyone that reviewed, fallowed or just read this story. I hope I don't disappoint anyone.**  
**Like I said before, this chapter and the next ones will take place in the future invaded by the Observers and will explain the events that brought Etta to the past. I'll try to keep it short so the story resumes as soon as possible right after Etta intercepts Peter. Remember this is Season 5 AU**  
**Once again many many thanks go to the amazing Crystalline Green, she is much more than a beta, without her corrections and suggestions this story would have been far worse and probably would never been published.**


	3. Losing Hope

**A/N Crystalline Green you rock! As always all mistakes are mine, don't blame poor Crys.**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Losing Hope...**

Eddie fidgeted, he felt on edge and exposed. No one but Simon Foster knew their true identities. To everyone else they were Edward and Henrietta Patterson, brother and sister. Eddie was caught off guard by Donald's assertion, and he didn't like the feeling one bit.

Eddie pulled his gun, levelling it at the stranger. "Who the hell are you?"

"I have no intention of causing you any arm. I will explain everything, but not here. We can go to any place you would like," Donald replied raising his hands. His tone was calm, almost monotonic. It oddly reminded Eddie of the way the Observers spoke.

"It's ok Eddie," Etta approached Donald looking him in the eye, freezing him with an icy blue glare. "Stand still," she ordered then gave him a quick pat down searching for weapons, satisfying herself that the man was not carrying any. "He's clear," she called to Eddie. "Now, get in the car."

Eddie held the back door open and ushered him inside, motioning with a twitch of his gun for Donald to move over, he climbed in after him leaving Etta to drive. She started the car and moved off, knowing exactly where they could talk without being disturbed.

"Ok, start talking" Eddie said still pointing his weapon at Donald.

Donald cocked his head to one side and looked at Eddie, ignoring the threat of the gun. He then turned his attention to the rear-view mirror, eyeing Etta through it. "I do not know how much you know about what happened when your parents died".

Etta's expression went from one of curiosity to anger in less than a second. She hit the brakes hard stopping the car. "Get out!" she spat.

Donald ignored Etta's words and continued, "I noticed this past week that you are still looking for them. Please believe me, they are dead. They were betrayed by a member of the resistance - someone they trusted fully - before we could implement our plan to defeat the Observers."

"I said get out!" Etta was gripping the steering wheel hard, trying to control herself.

"I can prove it to you."

Eddie grabbed his cousin's shoulder reassuringly hoping to calm her, then he turned his attention to their passenger sitting next to him. "Elaborate on it."

Donald gave a small nod, thanking Eddie for his intervention.

"When the Observers invaded, the original Fringe team quickly became the head of the resistance. They also became the biggest threat to the invaders plans," he paused, trying to summon the memories of a time long gone. "We had a plan, if we had managed to see it through, the Observers would have been defeated."

Eddie looked to Donald with genuine curiosity. Etta was still holding the wheel, but she had lessened her grip on it.

"To protect the plan only a few trusted people were informed of it and even then, those people only knew part of the whole plan. The Fringe team were the only ones that knew everything." He looked out of the window, took a breath and turned back before resuming his tale, "We also knew that the Observers were actively looking for us, we had to vacate your grandfather's lab at Harvard, as it was a known location and not safe there."

"You keep saying we," Eddie interrupted, "to my knowledge, the original Fringe team was composed of my aunt Liv, uncle Peter, his father – Walter Bishop, Astrid Farnsworth and their boss Philip Broyles."

"And you are correct," Donald paused for a while considering what he should say next. He worried that revealing that he was a former Observer at this time could make things worse. He opted to proceed with caution, "I joined them right before the invasion and I helped devise the plan along with Etta's grandfather, Walter Bishop. We also staged a hoax to avert the Observer's attention. We made precise replicas in silicone of the Fringe team and ambered them in a 'supposed' secret location, then we started a rumour about the Fringe team having ambered themselves in order to escape the invaders. The irony of it is that they never found them."

Etta, who had been silent hearing Donald's tale, turned her head and looked him the eye. "If what you are telling is true, then you know that location."

"Yes I do."

"Take us there. Now."

Eddie looked in disbelief at his cousin. "You cannot be serious Etta! It could be a trap!"

"I assure you it is not a trap, I have no wish to deceive you."

"You don't have to come Eddie," Etta said with her mind already set on what to do next.

"The hell I don't! I'm not letting you go there alone," Eddie huffed in frustration, he knew she would go with or without him.

"Good, we have to make a stop before we get there, I want to grab some supplies." Etta restarted the car and quickly drove to their apartment.

"Stay here with him Eddie, I'll be back in a sec," Etta said pulling up to the kerb.

"Fine," Eddie replied raising an eyebrow, clearly annoyed but also worried about what his cousin and this strange man were getting them into. His thoughts spiralled while he waited for her to return. Mercifully Etta was quick, hefting two backpacks into the trunk.

She didn't need to tell Eddie what was inside, he knew she kept the laser cutter, the buffer and the crowd control device which Simon had dubbed the 'wand' - all essential kit for freeing people trapped within amber – in those packs which were ready to go at all times. She would certainly want them with her once they reached this particular ambered location.

"Ok, what's the address?"

"It is in the basement of a warehouse in Oxford Street, Somerville."

They drove there in silence, Eddie casting glances at Donald, still suspicious of his intentions. It wasn't far from where they were and it took them only 10 minutes, besides, traffic jams were a thing of the past.

* * *

They arrived before sunset, giving them almost three hours before curfew.

The place was a big red brick building, two storeys high. From the fading letters on the sign in front it had once been an auto parts business. The broken glass in the windows offered proof that it hadn't had occupants in years.

Etta took three flash-lights from one of the backpacks handing one each to her cousin and Donald, keeping the third for herself.

Donald walked in front of them, opening the door that lead them inside, then he went straight to a small office on the left. "The resistance used this warehouse for storage, but it was abandoned before we came up with the amber hoax." He stood next to a cabinet putting his hands on one of its sides ready to push. "Help me with this, the entrance to the basement is behind it."

Eddie quickly dropped the backpack he was carrying and helped Donald shift the cabinet aside. As soon as they cleared the entrance Etta dropped the other backpack and went through it, not wanting to wait for them.

She reached the bottom of the stairs leading into the basement in a heartbeat, she panned her flash-light to her right and was met with a yellow glow reflecting off the amber encasing almost the entire area. She stopped in her tracks looking at it.

Four human figures were trapped within the golden substance. She approached slowly, looking intently at the closest of them. It was a face she had almost forgotten, the last time she had seen him she had been a seven year old child and fifteen years had passed since then. The man was her father, Peter Bishop.

She hardly noticed a tear flowing down her face.

Then she looked at the blond woman standing beside him. She raised one hand, caressing the amber that separated her from her mother. "You're so beautiful," she murmured leaning against the amber encasing Olivia.

Etta recalled moments from her childhood when she meet her parents from time to time. After she was sent to Chicago to live with her aunt Rachel, they went there every chance they had, but she knew they had to be careful to avoid leading the Observers to her. Usually she would see them only once or twice a year. The last time had been when she was seven.

Only two months after that final meeting, a man showed up at their home claiming to have been sent by her grandfather Walter. He was the one who had brought the news of her parents' death. He also gave them new identities and supplied all the documents required to support them. After that they moved to Portland, Walter's contact had insisted upon it because staying in Chicago was no longer safe, someone in the resistance had betrayed her parents and no one knew how much the traitor had been able to tell the Loyalists, and of course any information they had would immediately be passed on to the Observers.

Latter, once Ella had started to help the resistance in Portland, the rumour about the original Fringe team was still circulating and soon reached her cousin's ears. When Etta heard about it, she swore that as soon as she was old enough, she would go back to Boston in order to find them.

She did so, soon after Ella's death at the hands of the Loyalists. Eddie refused to let her go by herself, so he went with her to Boston, much to Rachel's distress.  
Now, after all these years, she hoped beyond hope that she was finally in the presence of her parents once more.

"Dear God." Eddie said from the bottom of the stairs, the two backpacks discarded on the floor at his feet. Donald was right behind him.

He wished that Donald wasn't telling the truth, that this was really a trap, he could have dealt with that. But this he didn't knew how to deal with, it would destroy Etta.

He walked towards his cousin and put a hand on her shoulder. "Etta we better go, there's no point cutting these things out of the amber."

She turned to him, desperate pleading in her eyes. "But maybe he is wrong Eddie, maybe it's really them." Eddie didn't remember ever seeing his cousin looking so vulnerable. "Please Eddie, I have to know..."

He gives her a sad smile. "Ok Etta." As much as he wishes to grab her and get her the hell out of there, he indulges her.

Eddie takes one of the backpacks and removes the contents. Donald joins him and they start assembling the laser that would cut through the amber.

Etta reached for the second backpack and took out the buffer device that would temporarily cause the amber to revert to its gaseous state. "Start cutting next to my father, it's the easiest way to get to them. Make it big enough so I can get in there to release them with the wand."

It took them almost half an hour to cut away a big enough area for them to attempt to release her father. They calibrated the buffer and Etta grabbed the wand then stood in the space they cut directly behind her father so he would be ejected into a cleared area once the buffer was activated and the wand was discharged.

Eddie finished programming the buffer and positioned himself so whoever or whatever they were going to release wasn't about to crash into him.

"Ok the buffer is ready. On three Etta, One… Two… Three."

Eddie activated the buffer forming a cloud of gas in front of them, Etta quickly discharged the wand. She held her breath watching the human figure being ejected from the amber, which then collapsed on the floor and bounced inanimate.

Etta stared numbly at the silicone doll created to resemble her father, she dropped the wand and sat beside it caressing its hair with her hand. When Eddie knelt beside her she looked at him tear faced. "I'm not going to see them ever again Eddie, they're really dead."

He embraced her and placed a kiss in her hair. There was nothing he could say which make this any easier, he could only offer her the comfort of his embrace.

The sobs began and Etta let them come, because there was no hope left.

Donald watched the pair; he saw the girl succumbing to the reality of her parents' death and pondered on what to do next. Finally he approached them and knelt beside Etta. "I am very sorry, I had no wish to cause you such discomfort."

Eddie eyed him, he knew it was not Donald's fault, but just then he was sure as hell blaming him for his cousin distress. He felt like punching him.

"There is someone that would very much like to see you. I am certain she will be able to answer many of the questions you have about your parents."

Now Eddie is really regretting not punching the guy before he had the chance to open his mouth. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

Etta raised her head from Eddie's shoulder, "It's ok Eddie," she said wiping away her tears on her sleeve. She looked to Donald, "Who is 'she'?"

"Astrid Farnsworth."


	4. And Finding It Again

**Chapter 4 - ...And Finding It Again**

Donald directed them to the place where Astrid was supposed to be. The ride was made in silence, Etta hadn't said a word since they left the warehouse. Eddie drove, throwing occasional glances at both Etta and Donald. Etta was in the passenger side, her head leaning against the window, a blank look on her face. Donald took the back seat once again, he looked undisturbed, like nothing that just had happened affected him.

Eddie's thoughts lingered on their mysterious passenger. Until now everything he'd told them had been true, but still it wasn't enough for Eddie to fully trust him. Too many questions remained unanswered. Why did he show up after all these years? Why now? Did he have an ulterior motive? And what was the 'plan' that apparently failed because of his aunt and uncle's deaths?

Eddie watched him through the rear-view mirror, his head was turned to the window, absently looking at the streets passing by.

"Tell me about the plan." Eddie asked.

Donald looked at him, "Pardon me?"

"The plan you told us about, the one that was aborted when my Uncle and Aunt died."

"Very well." Donald put his hands on his lap. "In order for you to understand, I must first explain to you about the Observers."

Eddie kept is eyes on the road, but is attention was fully on Donald's words.

"They are human like us and as you may know they came from the future, more precisely from 27th century. They have a higher intellect and most of their emotions have been repressed or are non-existent."

Donald paused for a few seconds, taking a quick glance through the window. Then he resumed his narrative.

"In the year 2167 a Norwegian scientist developed a method to enhance human intelligence through genetic manipulation. But it came at the price of sacrificing emotions, at least most of them. That was the beginning of the Observers"

"Ok, but what's that got to do with the plan? Were you planning on going to the future to kill the scientist that created the baldies?" Eddie asked with a snort.

"We planned on travelling to the future, but not to kill the scientist."

"Then what were you going to do?"

"We would take with us a child observer."

"A what?"

"A child that came from the same century as the Observers, one who was not supposed to exist."

"And why was that?"

"Because he was an anomaly."

"An anomaly? What do you mean?"

"He had the same intellect as the Observers, perhaps even more, but he maintained all the emotions that normal humans had. He was living proof that achieving a higher intellect was possible without sacrificing emotion. If we had succeeded in travelling with him to the year 2167, we could have proved to the scientist that he was wrong, that the development of a higher intellect was possible without the sacrifice of emotions. Hence preventing the development of the Observers as we know them today."

"I see." Eddie remained silent for a few minutes absorbing everything Donald had revealed to them.

"What happened to the child?" Eddie was startled by Etta's question, he had been so focused on Donald's words that he failed to notice that his cousin had come out from her slumber and was also paying attention to their conversation.

"He was killed on the same occasion as your parents."

"How?"

"We had almost everything ready to fulfil the plan. Your parents were with two trusted resistance members. They were moving the child to the pre-established location, a soft-spot Walter had chosen where the time travel would be initiated. However, they had been betrayed by one of the resistance members accompanying them and were ambushed by loyalists and observers. The informant killed the child himself, before your mother shot him. They were outnumbered and were unable to resist the attack on them. As a final act of defiance, your father detonated an anti-matter grenade, preventing them from being captured and being subjected to interrogation."

"We only know this because Sam Weiss, a good friend of your mother, was the other resistance member that was with them. Your parents managed to create a diversion in order for him to escape so he could warn us about what had happened. According to Sam, your mother wanted your father to go with him, but he refused to leave her alone. They died together."

Eddie glanced at Etta. She had gone back at staring through the window, immersed in her thoughts, processing everything Donald had told them.

"Take the next street on the left, the apartment is in the 3rd building on the right."

Eddie did as Donald asked, parking in front of the building. They left the car heading for an old building which had seen better days. Like in any of the 'Native' residential areas, the buildings on the street hadn't received maintenance of any kind in years. The one to which Donald was now directing them was no exception.

Working elevators were a thing of the past in these kind of buildings, therefore people generally avoided occupying the top floors. Donald led the way to the stairs, finally stopping when he reached the 3rd floor. "This way," he said taking a set of keys from his pocket, continuing on to the second door on the left. He unlocked it and allowed it to swing inwards, revealing the interior of the apartment.

A large living room stood before them. Two doors on each side wall lead to the other four divisions of the apartment. It was sparsely furnished, but it was clearly well taken care off.

A woman with dark skin and curly hair appeared from one of the side doors. "Donald, I was getting worried. What took you so long?" she asked.

"Hello Astrid. There is someone here to see you."

Etta was frozen, still standing in the doorway. She immediately recognized the woman in front of her even though the last time she had seen her in person, Etta had only been very little, before she had moved to Chicago to live with her aunt. She remembered her very well.

More recently, Etta had painstakingly searched for all the material she could get her hands on about the original Fringe Team. She had read every report there was about them and looked over every picture she had been able to find. She knew the woman in front of her - although older than she remembered or had been in the pictures she had seen - was without a doubt, FBI's Fringe Division Agent, Astrid Farnsworth.

"Aunt Astrid?" Etta asked in a small voice.

Astrid's face broke from the stare she had, until then, held the young woman under. "Oh my God, it's really you." She said with tears in her eyes, taking a step towards Etta.

"You look so much like her." Astrid whispered, tentatively reaching for her. Etta smiled, opening her arms as she stepped in to the embrace. They hugged for some time, taking comfort in the re-establishment of contact after such a long time.

Eddie watched the interaction between the two women. He had heard about Astrid Farnsworth many times before, actually meeting her on a few occasions before the invasion when visiting his aunt Liv. But the memories of those times were fuzzy, like they had happened in another lifetime.

"My grandfather, what happened to him?" Etta asked when they finally broke the embrace.

"He passed away a few years after your parents died, sweetie. I'm sorry." Astrid said, motioning Etta and Eddie to sit down on the sofa. Donald took a seat on the loveseat next to Astrid.

"It's ok," Etta gave a sad smile, unable to hide the sadness and grief at hearing the news about her grandfather.

"He wasn't the same after he lost your parents. It took an enormous toll on him."

"And you?" Etta questioned, "What happened to you after my parents died?"

"We had to run. We weren't sure how much the Observers knew about us or our hiding places. Your grandfather sent Sam Weiss to Chicago, he was the only one Walter trusted after the betrayal we suffered. He took with him new IDs for you and your Aunt Rachel's family with instructions to move all of you to somewhere safe. We weren't sure if he had made it because we never heard from him again."

"He did, he helped us move to Portland then settled us into a new life where we became the Patterson's. But we lost contact with him soon after we were fully established, we never saw him again."

Astrid nodded, "Sam Weiss was a good man." She was grateful that Sam had been able to protect Olivia's family, she was proud of him for his selfless act which may well have cost him his life.

"We went to Philadelphia where Sam was supposed to meet up with us, but he never made it. From then on we just didn't stay in the same place for very long. We always chose small towns and avoided big cities, moving on every few months."

"Your grandfather refused any form of contact with the resistance after that. He became very suspicious of anyone besides Donald or myself. After he passed away, we headed further south and ended up in a small town in North Carolina. We stayed there a few years and only moved a couple of times until we came back to Boston a few months ago."

"Why did you decide to come back?" Eddie asked.

"Because something happened in Brookneal, Virginia. It was the last town we were living in before we came back to Boston," Donald answered interrupting Astrid. "I was working in the town's morgue, when one day 3 bodies arrived, 2 loyalists and one Observer. They had been discovered in the woods."

"They must have been taken by a surprise attack, because the resistance activity in that region was, until then, non-existent. Even loyalists were a very rare sight there and this was the first Observer we ever encountered in Brookneal"

"A dead one at that." Astrid said with a look of contempt.

Donald resumed his narrative, "The bodies remained unclaimed for five days before someone came to retrieve them, giving me a chance to perform a detailed examination of the body of the Observer."

"You found something." Etta said, more an affirmation than a question.

"Yes, a genetic mutation. One which should not have been possible."

"But you said before that they were genetically altered to have an enhanced intellect. Wouldn't a genetic mutation be expected? Or even several?" Eddie leaned forward from where he was sitting, fully engrossed on the narrative.

"Not this one."

"Why not?"

"Because this was never present in the original Observers."

Etta looked surprised. "Original Observers? What do you mean by that?"

Donald and Astrid exchanged glances. Astrid got up reaching for Etta's hand and grabbing it.

"It's getting late dear, and it's almost curfew. Why don't you both stay with us tonight, I have a spare bed in my bedroom, Etta, you can sleep there. Eddie can take the couch, it's actually very comfortable. We'll explain everything to you over dinner. Believe me, it's a very long and complicated story."

Donald nodded in agreement. "Yes, we should start from the beginning, before Henrietta's father stepped into the Machine and the timeline was rewritten."

"What?!" Eddie and Etta said in unison.

* * *

They spent dinner listening to Astrid and Donald telling about the original timeline, how the Observers originally interfered by accident setting in motion a series of events that had led to Walter kidnapping Peter from the Alternate Universe, starting a war against the other side.

They told of how the Fringe team had been assembled when Olivia had first forced her way into the fray and then brought Peter in from Iraq, in order to gain access to Walter in her desperate attempt to save John Scott.

They filled in the key events that had unfolded after that; How Peter travelled to the other side after discovering his true origins and how Olivia had gone after him to warn him about his biological father's true intentions.

How she had been captured and then duped while on the other side. The ordeal she had gone through over there and how hard it had become for Peter and Olivia when she finally made it back, almost destroying their relationship.

They told them how Peter had stepped into the machine building the Bridge between the two Universes and how he got himself erased from the new timeline, but that Olivia's connection to him was so strong that in spite of everything, he had been drawn back, even though she herself hadn't remembered him in the beginning.

Etta and Eddie where astonished hearing their hosts narrative.

"Ok, that is one hell of a story," Eddie finally said after a few seconds taking in all that he had heard, "but you still haven't explained to us who the original Observers were or why they are apparently so important."

After a brief hesitation Donald replied, "I was one of them,"

The cousins gasped and both looked at Donald, then to Astrid, who was nodding confirming Donald's revelation.

"He was indeed an Observer, Walter helped him remove his tech just before the invasion. The other Observers were hunting him and the only way they could locate him was through his tech, so he asked for Walter's help. He also went through a treatment regime to become more like us. Donald was always on our side, since the beginning."

Donald gave a small smile to Astrid, then resumed his story. "Our society developed a way to travel through time with the help of a device that was implanted into the brain."

"The tech?" Eddie interjected.

"That is correct," Donald said nodding, "A science team consisting of 12 members was formed in order to study the past. Each was given the codename of a month, mine was September. Our goal was to observe key events through the centuries, to record them in order to compile an accurate archive of human history. We were given the only 12 devices that were produced so we could accomplish our goal.  
We were also able to determine possible outcomes and consequences that a single event would cause in a given timeline. Or at least we thought we could. That was our first mistake. After the timeline was reset, something changed in our society. It became... hostile," Donald paused and looked away from the cousins. Astrid sensed his distress and gave a squeeze to his hand, urging him to go on.

"We failed to notice it in the beginning, since we spent so much of our time travelling through history. When we finally realized that something was not right, it was too late. The members of the original science team were detained and the tech was taken from them. They started producing the tech in mass quantities to form an army to invade the past. I managed to escape, bringing Michael - the child observer - with me. After that I asked your grandfather to help me remove the tech. I knew how to extract it safely as that was what was originally planned after our task was complete."

Eddie sighed, "There's something I don't understand. If your society changed after the timeline reset, weren't you guys supposed to change too?"

"The tech prevented that from happening. It allowed us to be outside time itself. That is why we were not affected by the reset and remained the same while our society changed." Donald took a deep breath, remembering their role in resetting the timeline which always brought feelings of regret and anguish.

"The irony is that we were the ones who provoked the reset. Like I explained before we were also the ones who accidentally distracted Peter Bishop's biological father, preventing him from finding a cure to Peter's illness, thus altering the timeline in the first place. Our mission was to observe, not to intervene, but since we were responsible for the change, we took upon our selfs to correct it.  
We studied the way to restore the correct path to the timeline. We factored several different events to try to reach the desirable outcome. The one that gave us more guaranties of achieving our goal was to reset the timeline and erase Peter Bishop from it after he fulfilled his function, so we secretly altered the Wave Sync machine programming in order to do so."  
Donald gave a sad smile, almost apologetic. "Now I know that we were wrong."

* * *

Dinner went by with Donald giving further details about his original peaceful mission, how he became fascinated with Walter and later on, the original Fringe Team.

Etta saw it as an opportunity, having two people in front of her with first-hand knowledge about her parents, she grabbed the chance asking multiple questions about them. Astrid and Donald were able to provide answers to questions she'd wondered about and held on to her entire life. Etta felt she was getting a part of them back, when earlier hope had been fading, she had begun to believe would be lost to her forever. It was exhilarating.

"My God, I haven't had a meal like this in like... forever!" Etta said both amazed by the food they had just eaten, but also by the feast of information she had received from Donald and Astrid.

Eddie nodded in agreement. "You bet, usually we only get the God damned food supplements".

"Actually, that was also food supplements, but I manage to make it look and taste like real food - with a few tricks of my own." Astrid said with a smile.

Etta got up, picking up the plates, smiling back at Astrid.

There was a brief lull in the conversation as they began clearing the dishes and Etta's mind once began swirling with everything she had learnt over the course of the evening. She couldn't help but pursue the topic further. "Ok, let me get this straight. You are saying that because of the timeline reset, something changed in the Observers DNA, causing them to become hostile and you believe that the mutation you found is responsible for that?"

"Yes, that is correct. I hypothesise that there was an event in the new timeline that caused the mutation. An unknown event that did not take place in the original timeline." Donald answered while helping Etta cleaning up the table.

"That's interesting, but still I don't see how it can be useful. It's not like we can develop a vaccine or some biological weapon to reverse the mutation. We don't have the means for that. And even if we did, it would be impossible to find a way to administer it to every Observer."

"That's not our plan Etta," Astrid replied heading for the kitchen with Eddie and Etta in tow.

"You have a plan?"

"Yes. Before your grandfather died, he became obsessed with the idea of finding a way to travel into the past, to the original timeline. He thought that if he stopped himself from crossing over to the other universe, none of this would have happened." Astrid paused and tried to take the plates from Etta. "Let me take care of that, sweetie. You are our guests, sit down while Donald and I take care of the dishes."

"Please Aunt Astrid, we're used to it, let's us help you." Etta gave Astrid a smile positioning herself with Eddie in front of the sink.

"You better let her do this, she can be really stubborn," Eddie said chuckling.

"I wonder where she got that from," Astrid smiled rolling her eyes. She finally indulged Etta and took a towel to dry the dishes. "Ok, you two take care of the washing, I'll dry."

"You were saying that my grandfather wanted to travel to the past?" Etta prompted.

"Yes. We tried to talk him out of it, but once your grandfather got something in his mind, there was nothing we could do." Astrid smiled fondly with the memory of Walter's antics and stubbornness. No wonder Etta turned out that way too. Being the daughter of Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop and the granddaughter of Walter Bishop, stubbornness was more than a trait, it was a requirement.

"Did he manage to do it?"

"No, but he was close. Donald thinks that we was on the right path, but there was something he was missing."

Donald had joined them with the rest of the dishes. "My tech. I kept it hidden in a safe place all these years. He asked me about it but I told him I had destroyed it. At the time I believed that your grandfather's assumption about travelling to the original timeline would be dangerous and would not prevent this future from happening."

He took the dishes that Astrid had dried and started putting them away in the kitchen cabinets.

"He believed that the timeline had not actually been 'reset', but that it was in reality overlapped by the new one. He posited that the original timeline still exists in the space-time continuum. According to Walter, if one could travel to the past in this timeline to a point where the previous timeline had existed, with my tech, it would be possible to access it."

He stopped the task he was doing and took a holographic notepad from one of the drawers of the kitchen cabinet. "To better explain Walter's theory, I can draw a diagram."

Etta and Eddie paused, paying attention to what Donald was doing.

He took the notepad and drew with is finger a horizontal single line in the centre, it began in the left margin and ended in the middle of the notepad.

"Imagine this line as a layer, representing the original timeline. Here, where it ends," he said pointing to the end of the line and making a small circle emphasizing the end "this is where Peter Bishop was erased after stepping out of the wave sync machine."

He then made a new line above the other one, beginning also in the left margin and ran parallel to it, but continuing until the end of the notepad.

"This is the new timeline, created after the reset. It is the layer that replaced the old one, overlapping it. It is also the timeline we are experiencing now." He drew a small circle almost at the end of the new line. "This is the present. As you can see there is nothing under it, thus making it impossible to access the old timeline if we tried it from here."

"Because the old timeline ended in the past?" Eddie interjected.

"That is correct." Donald said with a smile, pleased that they were following.

"Now if we managed to travel to the past in our timeline," he draws another small circle on the upper line at a point where the lines were parallel, just before the lower line ended "then in theory," he said making a small vertical arrow beginning in the circle he just added and ending in the lower line "with my tech, one could access the original timeline."

The cousins looked at him in awe.

"We now believe that it is possible to go back to that timeline and prevent it from being reset. We have your grandfather's plans to build a device which will allow travel to such a point. We only need to retrieve my tech. But it will still be a dangerous journey."

"That is... amazing!" Etta said excited about the unexpected turn of events. The idea of travelling in time to the past when her parents were alive was already taking over her mind.

"There is something we also need to prevent the reset," Donald told them. "Access to the wave sync machine."

Eddie frowned looking at Donald. "The wave sync machine, you keep mentioning it. Isn't that the same machine my uncle got into and used to form the bridge between the two universes which then wiped him from existence?"

"That is correct." Donald replied

"But why do you need access to it? Does it still exist?"

Astrid, who was also paying attention to Donald's explanation, decided to intervene. "Yes, but it's in an unknown location. Right after the invasion our boss, Philip Broyles, ordered it to be disassembled. It was taken from Liberty Island to the headquarters of Massive Dynamic in New York, once dismantled it was to be hidden elsewhere. We were afraid that the Observers would use the machine to their advantage. With all the commotion in those days, we lost track of it. The only thing we are sure off is that it's no longer at Massive Dynamic's headquarters."

Donald turned off the holographic notepad, storing it in a drawer. "The Observers had no interest in the machine, it was not important to them. But now it is to us."

Eddie scratched his one day stubble, a tell-tale sign that he was thinking. "But it may not even exist anymore."

"That is a possibility," Donald answered, "but I am confident that it still does." He paused for a few seconds, watching the two young cousins who were waiting for him to elaborate.

"You see, the machine when dismantled is of no use. There's is nothing that can be done with its parts, unless you know what you are doing. Besides me and the Observers, there were only two other people that would know that. One is dead and the other one is on the Alternate Universe."

"I see," Eddie nodded, understanding what Donald had implied.

"The machine must be reprogrammed in order not to reset the timeline and to not erase Peter Bishop. To do so we only need one small piece of the machine which we would have to take to the past to replace the original component of the machine."

"That is why we came back to Boston. To contact someone within the resistance and try to establish a relationship with someone we could trust, someone who might help us fulfil the plan. Simon Foster seemed like a good candidate, but that was before I saw you."

Etta and Eddie shared a look. "First thing in the morning, we're talking to Simon," Etta said. Just a few hours before she had lost all hope. Now she felt more determined and sure that a better future was possible.

For the first time after meeting Donald she gave a smile that reached her winter blue eyes.

* * *

**A/N Hope it wasn't too confusing.**  
**As always, big thanks go to Crystaline Green, once again she did the impossible, managed to turn my crappy writing into something bearable to read. **


	5. Etta, In the Lab, With a Picture

**A/N Crys if I ever win the lottery I'll buy you LFC... or maybe a brewery. **

**Chapter 5 - Etta, in the lab, with a picture**

The day after their meeting, Simon was informed of the plan with the condition that he would not tell anyone. He was sceptic in the beginning, but agreed to help them look for the wave sync machine. Being a Fringe Agent gave him access to resources that without them, would make the search very difficult.

According to Walter's plan, two devices would be needed to reach the old timeline. The first would allow the traveller to reach the past in the current timeline. This device was based on an invention that Walter had built when Peter was a child, which he named the 'DizRay'. Back then he had created the apparatus in an unsuccessful attempt to make contact with a scientist from the past to help him find a cure for Peter.

In the old timeline the 'DizRay' machine had been stolen by Mitchell Loeb and used as a teleportation device to free David Robert Jones from prison. The new design was apparently much better and with Donald's knowledge of traveling through time, the chances of building a fully operational time-traveling machine were greatly improved.

Once in the past, the second device – based on Donald's tech - would be used to access the old timeline. Walter had anticipated that inserting the tech back into the brain of the traveller could lead to unwanted and unforeseeable effects on that person. The tech had been designed for an Observer, not a normal human being and also there was the danger that the Observers could use it to locate them once the tech was activated. Therefore Walter had conceived a second device similar to the window he had invented to cross over to the alternate universe. The tech would have to be dismantled and used to build a small portable window generator to cross to the old timeline.

The downside was that since it wouldn't be attached to the person's body, the device would be left behind after crossing to the old timeline, meaning the traveller would be trapped. This would strictly be a one way deal.

Donald retrieved his tech from where he had hidden it and soon started working on the portable device to cross to the old timeline. Etta and Eddie provided the materials he needed, often taking advantage of their contacts in the resistance to acquire the more difficult to obtain parts.

Two weeks after they first met, they went to Walter's old lab in Harvard to retrieve the 'DizRay'. They would need its parts to assemble the new time traveling device. Fortunately, in this timeline Mitchell Loeb hadn't stolen it.

The lab remained pretty much intact, since Harvard was off limits to Natives. The Observers used it for some kind of base.

Right after the invasion, Walter had taught the team the secret way to the lab through the Harvard tunnels. Thanks to that knowledge, Donald and Astrid were able to guide them to the old lab without being spotted.

The Kresge building was not frequented by the Observers or the Loyalists and the area of the building housing the lab was apparently pretty much left alone. Their surveillance of the area before breaking in, had showed little to no activity in that part of the complex. Still after exiting the tunnels, they approached the lab with extreme caution.

Etta went first, casing the area for unwanted occupants. Eddie was right behind her. Astrid and Donald waited in the tunnel until the pair cleared the area.

"Ok guys it's clear, let's get what we need quickly and get out of here," Etta said approaching the tunnel entrance. The trio made their way to the lab where Eddie was waiting.

Donald and Eddie quickly took care of the DizRay after getting it out of storage in Walter's old basement. They used one of the workbenches to disassemble it for easier transportation.

In Olivia's old office, Astrid sorted through some files with Etta's help. For Astrid it was a trip down memory lane.  
"Aha!" she said with a smile on her face taking out a picture from one of the boxes on the floor.  
"I knew Olivia had kept it somewhere around here," she said showing Etta the photo.

It was taken right there in the lab. Peter was playing the piano while Olivia leant on it looking intently at him, a soft smile lighting her face; the same look Peter was displaying, like a reflection of Olivia's own smile.

"They look so happy," Etta noted, touching both her parents faces with feather-like fingers.

"They were sweetie, I took this picture a few weeks after your mother found out she was pregnant with you." Astrid smiled at the memory.

"You see, before the reset, we had a piano in the lab and after one of our first cases your father played for your mother, 'Someone to watch over me' was the name of the song," Astrid cleared her throat and started to sing the first few bars, much to Etta's surprise. She listened as Astrid sang the old song, her beautiful voice bringing a glimpse of happier times.

"It's a very beautiful song and you have a very beautiful voice Aunt Astrid," Etta said after Astrid finished singing.

"Thank you sweetie," Astrid replied patting Etta's arm. "In the new timeline there was no piano, so after your mother got pregnant Peter asked for my help and we manage to bring a piano just like the old one in to surprise her. I took this picture that day, he played the same song."

Etta looked intently at the photo, like it was the most precious gift she had ever received "Thanks Aunt Astrid, this means the world to me."

"You're welcome sweetie," Astrid said welcoming the hug Etta gave her. They broke apart, both smiling and with glassy eyes.

* * *

Eddie and Donald stripped the parts they needed from the DizRay and as they were freed from the device, Eddie carefully packed them in his backpack. While he worked he continued to mull over the information Donald had supplied, and was soon formulating questions in his head, unconsciously scratching at his stubble.

"You want to ask me something, Edward?" Donald said without looking up from the machine, correctly reading Eddie's gesture, having already learned that it was his 'deep-in-thought' tell.

Eddie was caught by surprise. "Err… actually, yeah."

"So…?" Donald prompted him.

"When you told us the story about the original Fringe team, you said that when the timeline was reset, you and your colleagues from the science team weren't affected because your tech allowed you 'to be outside of time',"

"Yes, that is correct," Donald answered, by now he felt sure he knew where Eddie was going with that.

"So, how can we be sure that the same thing won't happen to the current observers if we manage to prevent the resetting of the timeline - that they won't continue to exist? Because if they survive all this will be for nothing."

Donald smiled. "That is a good question. You are a very bright young man Edward Blake, your aunt would have been proud of you."

Eddie looked a bit embarrassed by the unexpected praise from Donald.

"I cannot be 100% sure the current Observers will be wiped from existence once the reset is undone. What I do know is that when we preformed the reset we took safety measures in case things did not turn out as we anticipated. That is why we were outside of time when it occurred. In the case of something not having gone as we planned, we could always undo it right after it happened."

"I see," Eddie said nodding his head. "So, these Observers won't be expecting what we are going to do and since they will be in this timeline when it happens, they will be gone along with it?"

"Exactly, that is what I anticipate will happen," Donald answered giving a small smile.

They resumed their task in silence, though it was evident to Eddie that something was bothering Donald. The faint smile he had given Eddie lasted only a few minutes before it had been replaced by a sombre look. "Is everything ok?" he asked.

Donald stopped, resting his hands on the workbench. "I only realised the true impact of the reset much later and by then it was too late to undo what we had done. When I found the mutation within the Observer's body a few months ago, I had the final proof as to the extent of the mistake we had made when we preformed the reset. If we had not, that mutation would have never occurred and the invasion would have never had taken place."

Eddie noticed the gloomy look which had descended over Donald's face, he had the same expression the first time he had told them about his role in the timeline reset. "You did it because you believed that was the right thing to do at the time, Donald. You should stop beating yourself up because of it."

"What we did caused the loss of millions of lives Edward. Believe me it is a very heavy burden to carry. " Donald sighed and looked down. His slumped shoulders were a clear sign of how much that subject affected him. "I am the only one of my team left, therefore it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to correct what we did."

Eddie put his hand on Donald's shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "We will succeed, Donald, I have faith in that. This plan of yours has given both Etta and myself hope that things can get better. You gave us something concrete to fight for, something that can really change this world for the better. For the first time I feel we have a real chance to stop the Observers. We are no longer condemned to taking part in futile missions, with the only goal of stealing weapons and taking down as many enemies as we could. Those missions were leading us nowhere. We all new that path would lead to failure and that the Observers would eventually win. "

Eddie leaned his head to look Donald in the eyes.

"But you have given something much greater than all that, now we have a sense of purpose. Thanks to you, we are doing something that may very well change the course of this war once and for all."

Donald raised his head and looked at Eddie. "You are very kind Edward. What you said means a lot to me. I promise you that I will do everything in my power to ensure the plan comes to a successful conclusion."

The sense of guilt was something that would stay with Donald until the day he died, but Eddie's words made carrying that burden a little easier than it usually was.

* * *

Etta had propped herself against the filing cabinet's in Olivia's office, she kept looking at the picture but her smile was slowly replaced by a frown.

"What is it?" Astrid asked noticing the curious expression on Etta's face.

"You and Donald said that after the timeline was rewritten, no one remember who my father was or the events that took place in the old timeline. Only my mother remembered and that was some time after my father reappeared?"

"Yes, that's right sweetie."

"So, how come you seem to remember things from that timeline in such great detail?"

Astrid took a seat on the office's old bench and motioned for Etta to join her. "That was Michael's doing."

"The Child Observer?"

"Yes, he was a very special boy. He made it possible for Walter and I to remember the old timeline. I hadn't seen your father so happy, not since before the Observers invaded, as he was the day Walter and I told him we remembered everything from the old timeline. The four of us, your mother included off course, spent that night talking about all the old cases and all the good memories we had from that time."

Etta got up from the bench and knelt in front of Astrid, "When we get back to our hideout I want you to tell me everything you remember about the old timeline." Then she got up and left the office, almost at a run towards Donald. "Hey," she called, "Who is going to travel into the past?"

Donald stopped what he was doing and both he and Eddie looked intently at Etta. "I was considering going myself..."

"I'll go." Etta interrupted before Donald could finish the sentence.

"What?!" Eddie blurted, glaring at Etta, even though deep down he had been half expecting this since moment Donald had told them about the plan.

"I was going to say that logically, you are a much better choice than I am," Donald finished.

Eddie looked dumbfounded at him. "You gotta be kidding!"

Etta however couldn't be happier, the smug look on her face showed that clearly.

"You have Cortexiphan in your system. Your mother passed it on to you, it is what allows you to deflect the Observer's readings. You are also the child of parents from different universes. Those two factors combined will give you an edge when it comes to travelling to the past or to alternate realities. Your body will adapt itself without the need for drugs."

"Cortexiphan; that was the drug my mother received as a child?"

"That is correct. Cortexiphan has unique qualities, one of which offers protection to its recipients - once it has bonded to their DNA - against the stresses and strains of travelling through time or crossing into alternate realities, which, if unprepared for, would have a catastrophic impact on the human body. Without the correct treatment one will suffer from molecular degradation upon arrival which will eventually lead to the demise of the traveller.  
I will have to go with you, but I can only make it to the past in this timeline. Once we get there we must travel through by any means necessary to were you will be able to cross to the old timeline. Only then I will be able to calibrate the device I am building from my tech, which will allow you to crossover."

"What will happen to you, after I cross?" Etta asked with trepidation, already having an inkling but not yet fully realising the implications of the answer she was about to receive.

"I will eventually die."

Eddie and Etta were taken aback by Donald's bluntness. "What do you mean you will die?" Etta asked, astonished at the calmness with which he delivered this statement.

"Because of the treatment I took and the removal of my tech, to make me more like the humans of this time, I am no longer able to safely cross dimensions or travel through time without the support of a cocktail of drugs. Drugs that would be very difficult or maybe impossible to acquire. Without them my body will eventually succumb to the effects of time travel. I am not certain of how many weeks or days I will have in the past."

The cousins looked in shock at Donald. The serenity in his voice contrasted starkly with the gravity of what he had told them.

"Although I underwent a treatment to be more like you, I am still more resilient then a normal human when it comes to crossing dimensions or travel through time. Neither Edward nor Astrid can come with us. As I explained before, without the proper treatment they would most likely be dead within a few hours of travel.  
You, however, do not need those drugs Henrietta."

Silence fell between them after Donald's revelation, each adrift within their thoughts. Eddie knew that if they were to be successful with their plan, the timeline they were currently experiencing would cease to exist and they would be lost with it. But that was a sacrifice he was more than willing to make, it would be painless, an end in the blink of an eye. But it would ensure a better world with a different and much brighter future.

What Donald was proposing to do, on the other hand, would most likely lead to a very slow and painful death. Eddie couldn't help but feel admiration and gratefulness towards him. After their earlier talk he understood why Donald was so willing to make that sacrifice, but that didn't detract from the fact that he was a truly honourable and courageous man.

Still, Eddie was worried about his cousin. "Are you sure that Etta has that drug, Cortexiphan in her system?"

"Yes. Her grandfather tested her after she was born. The test came back positive. But I will need to take further tests to assess how much she still has in her system."

Somewhat appeased, Eddie nodded. "I see."

Sensing her cousin distress Etta grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze. "Eddie, it will be ok. If everything goes according to plan, I'm certain that we will meet again. In a better future."

Eddie nodded without saying a word and resumed his work disassembling the machine, a sense of deep sadness settling over him.

"Eddie, please you have to understand. I have the chance to be with my parents. We have the chance to change this godforsaken world and turn it into something better."

He took the last piece of the machine and handed it to Donald. "I understand Etta. I just wish I could go with you."

"I know, I wish you could come too."

Donald took the part and settled it carefully within one the backpacks. "Etta has another advantage over us. When she arrives in the past she will have to convince the original Fringe team about the validity of her story. Being the daughter of Peter Bishop and Olivia Dunham will help with that. They will only have to test her DNA to see that she is telling the truth."

Eddie nodded, understanding the advantages they would gain by sending Etta. Still he couldn't help but feel a sense of impending loss. Resigned, he shouldered his backpack. "Ok, I guess then it will have to be that way," he said with a sad smile.

Donald grabbed the other backpack. "We have everything we need, we should go, it is almost curfew." They joined Astrid as they set off for the tunnels, leaving the lab behind.

Later that night, Etta spent hours talking to Astrid who told her stories from the old timeline, of the time she spent with her parents and her grandfather.


	6. The Heist

**A/N So a brewery it is, if the numbers come up it's all yours Crys :) Thanks for everything!  
**

**Chapter 6 - The Heist**

Four months had passed since the day they met Donald.

Simon finally located the disassembled wave sync machine in a facility which used to belong to Massive Dynamic in Yonkers, New York.

Etta and Eddie conducted surveillance of the facility for weeks. It was a compound now used by the Loyalists as an Academy of sorts. According to the intel Simon was able to dig up, the machine was stored along with other obsolete materials in a storage warehouse used by the rookie recruits in training.

The problem was that the warehouse was inside the compound, which was surrounded by a high security wall. To make things worse the rookies slept in barracks on site and armed Loyalists guarded the two entrances. There was always a watchful presence, twenty four seven, every day of the year. A direct assault would be out of the question.

They discussed several options; building a tunnel would take too much time and it was simply impractical. Enrolling Etta and Eddie as cadets for the Loyalists, might work, but they could end up in the wrong compound.

Using a supplies truck to gain access and sneak someone inside seemed to be the best plan. It would still be dangerous, but it was the only viable option they came up with. The hard part would be gaining access to a truck from one of the Loyalists suppliers. Then there was the problem of getting out without arousing suspicions.

Etta had been excited about the plan. Of course, she had volunteered to be the one infiltrating the compound, much to Eddie's dismay. Simon and the others weren't very happy with it either, after all Etta was the key element of their plan to go back to the past. If something happened to her, there would be no plan.

However they knew she was also the ideal candidate to infiltrate the compound, she was the only one able to deflect in the event of an Observer mind reading, though Eddie had argued that they hadn't ever seen an Observer in the compound during the weeks they watched. Based on that, he could go in or even both of them, but Etta had pointed out that if they got caught they would be sent to an Observer facility and if that happened, they would know about the plan after reading Eddie. She would have to go alone. They finally agreed to send only her.

Eddie was still afraid, even if Etta was able to deflect the Observers mind reading in the event that she was captured, there was still the question of what the Loyalists would do to her in captivity. She would be on her own with no one to help her.

They started working on the plan to steal the machine. Out of concern, Eddie still firmly opposed the plan, but he knew it would be impossible to talk Etta out of it. He had to find another way to get into the compound. Fortunately he gained some time to think of an alternate scheme as they were having trouble getting access to one of the supplier's trucks.

Eddie was idly watching Donald as he assembled the time travelling machine when he finally came up with one. It was so simple, so crazy and bold that it might even work.

When he proposed his idea to the others they stared at him dumbfounded. Etta objected immediately, since she wasn't included on Eddie's new plan. The others didn't have to give it much thought, they immediately dropped the first plan, despite Etta's protests.

Etta was seriously pissed off, so much that Eddie was afraid she was going to shoot him, still he couldn't help grinning like a fool, which made Etta even angrier.

The day finally arrived. Along with Astrid, Etta watched from afar, still fuming at being left behind, only able to observe as Eddie's bold plan was set into action. Astrid grabbed her hand giving it a supportive squeeze. "Don't worry Etta, they'll pull it through. Nothing is going to happen to them."

"It better not. If Eddie gets caught or killed I swear I'll shoot him afterwards." Astrid smiled at Etta's fierce protectiveness over her cousin. Etta couldn't care less about her own safety, but she would protect the ones she loved, even if it cost her life. She reminded Astrid so much of Olivia.

"It's them!" Etta said watching a town car with tainted windows arriving at the main entrance to the Loyalists compound. Simon was driving, dressed as a loyalist chauffeur. He stopped the car right in front of the main gate, much to the guards' surprise. Ignoring their shouted orders to move the car, he stepped out of the vehicle to open the back door.

They immediately stopped in their tracks when two Observers climbed out.

Of course the guards had no way to know that the 'Observers' were in fact Eddie and Donald in disguise. Donning typically crisp Observer style suits and a fedora hat. Both were carrying a briefcase, their heads and brows had been shaved and a little make up worked wonders to give their skin the same grey lifeless complexion the Observes had. No one could tell the difference between them and a genuine Observer.

Donald took the lead, ordering the guards to let them inside, which they did immediately. He mimicked in prefect detail the real Observer's monotonic speech and gestures, the severity of which he himself found diminished over time since the removal of his tech, but having once been one of them made it really easy.

Access granted, they went in while Simon waited inside the vehicle, tapping nervously on the steering wheel.  
Donald asked for the director's office, being immediately escorted to it.

The director was taken aback when he saw the two 'Observers' barging into his office fallowed by some very distressed loyalist officers who hadn't had time to warn their superior of such an unexpected visit.

"I'm sorry but we weren't expecting your visit. If we knew, we would have made the proper arrangements," the director of the academy said, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Are you suggesting that we should have to report to you whenever we decide to inspect your premisses?" Donald said looking intently at the director.

"No! Of course not!" The small man spluttered, sheer panic on his face.

Eddie stepped closer. "Maybe he is hiding something." He then tilted his head 'Observer' style, and stared at the director.

Thinking that he was about to be read, the director turned white as a sheet and fainted.

The other loyalists looked at the two 'Observers' in panic, thinking that their director had been read by them, the pressure of which looked to have killed him. Lucky for Eddie and Donald, the loyalists present in the room hadn't much experience outside the academy, because if they had, they would have known that one of the side effects of an Observer mind scan was a bloody nose, not peeing in the pants.

"Does anyone else have an objection?" Donald asked.

"No!" they all said in unison.

"Good. You shall resume your duties. We will observe your activities and inspect the compound. Carry on as usual."

"Yes sir!" The Loyalists quickly left the office and tried to look as efficient as possible.

Donald and Eddie went around the compound, watching the rookies training and inspecting some of the buildings before they finally reached their target. Entering the warehouse, they examined some of the old weaponry and other objects, subtly looking for the wave sync machine component they needed. Finally Donald found it. He made sure no one was watching before loading it inside his briefcase.

After leaving the warehouse they inspected one more building. They didn't want to push their luck by staying longer that it was necessary within the compound, but they also didn't want to raise suspicions as to what they did with a hasty exit from the warehouse.

On the way out they revisited the director's office. By now the man had recovered, and seeing them again he gave them a terrified look. "I… I swear I'm not hiding anything from you," he babbled.

"Of course you are not. Learning everything from you would be simple, if we so wished," Donald said watching the small man sweating like a pig. Eddie almost left out a snort just thinking on how many pounds the guy had lost with all the sweating. "But that is not our purpose." Donald continued, "We came here to inspect how this compound is being managed."

"I... I hope you were satisfied with what you saw?"

"Satisfied is not the proper word. But one should not expect much from your kind." Eddie was enjoying the exchange between Donald and the director, he could see that the man was almost on the verge of a heart attack.

"I'm sure we can improve. We will double, no, triple the exercises of the cadets until they reach a level of performance to meet with your satisfaction."

"Do as you think is best. We are done, for now. We will return to note your improvements." With that, they left the director's office - much to his relief - and headed to the car where Simon was waiting for them. As soon as they were on board, Simon took off.

Observing through her binoculars Etta saw them safely drive away. "They're out!" she exclaimed, her anxiety draining in a rush.

"Let's go then, we have to meet them at the rendezvous point," Astrid reminded, getting up from her position and motioning Etta to do the same. They quickly got in their car heading towards the abandoned building on the outskirts of Yonkers where they had previously determined to meet after the job was done.

Arriving last Etta quickly jumped out of the car. "Did you get it?" she asked nervously.

"Are you kidding? We could have taken the entire warehouse and they wouldn't suspect anything. Off course we got it!" Eddie answered with a smug look and a wink at Etta, which earned him a light punch to his arm, though it was delivered with a smile.

Simon handed Donald and Eddie their street clothes, which had been stowed in their car. "Ok guys, we have to change, then I have to get rid of the town car. After that I'll head to Boston by train. I'll see you guys there."

After changing, they said their good byes and Simon set off. But for Donald and Eddie there was one more thing to be done before leaving. Since they had to shave all of the hair from their heads - eyebrows included – it would not be a good idea to walk around in such a predicament having finished the job. Thankfully Simon had done the impossible and managed to find convincing wigs and fake eyebrows for both of them.

Astrid took care of both Donald's and Eddie's eyebrows and then fitted their wigs.

They would have to get used to walking around in this fakery every time they went outside for the next few days or weeks, depending on how long it would take for their hair to grow back.

Etta couldn't help but snort looking at her cousin's new hair. "Come to think of it, your plan wasn't that bad after all, you look so cute in that wig," she teased.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "The wig? That's what you liked about my plan? Thanks for the compliment Couz," he said in a sarcastic tone.

It was hard for Etta to admit, but Eddie's plan was brilliant and had worked like a charm. The only problem for her was that she hadn't been included. So much like Olivia, Etta hated being left on the side-lines, she only felt comfortable when she was in control.

She approached Eddie and softly touched his arm. "It was a good plan Eddie, a very clever one actually. You did great, both of you did," Etta said addressing Donald also.

Eddie smiled and gave an appreciative nod, he knew how much must have cost her having to watch everything from afar.

"Ok guys I'm finished, let's grab the rest of our stuff and head home," Astrid said after mussing and teasing the fringe of Donald's with a few finishing touches.

The ride back home was uneventful. Etta's excitement was clear in the way she smiled. They had the last thing they needed and soon they would be ready for travel. She was so excited that she event let Eddie drive while she took the back seat along with Astrid.

"How much time will you need to reprogram the piece of the wave sync machine we stole?" Etta asked looking up at Donald catching his eye in the rear-view mirror.

"If the interface I build works, then two to three days."

"And then we can travel to the original timeline?"

"Before that we will need to make preparations. You will need to take some equipment with you that may be very helpful to your mission. I will also need to train and prepare you for all that you are going to face."

"What do you mean?" Etta asked with a frown.

"One of your goals will be to prevent your father from crossing over to the Alternate Universe. As we told you before, in the original timeline your father crossed to the other side voluntarily with his biological father, the Walter Bishop from that other Universe. If you are successful preventing it, then he will not take that kindly. He will use any means necessary to bring Peter Bishop back to the Alternate Universe. He needs him to activate his wave sync machine."

"I see."

Donald turned his head and looked Etta in the eyes. "Beware of that Walter Bishop, Henrietta. He is a very intelligent man, dangerous and conniving. He has an agenda and he will stop at nothing to accomplish his goal; the destruction of this universe.  
Do not think for a minute that because you come from the future and you are used to dealing with the Observers - even though they may be more advanced than humans - that this will give you an edge over him." Donald paused letting his words sink in. "It will not. Do not ever let him know who you really are or where you came from."

Etta nodded her head, taking in Donald's warning.

"He was nothing like our Walter, Etta" Astrid added, "The things he did to your mother..."

Etta noticed Astrid's discomfort. She shook her head gravely, "Don't worry Aunt Astrid, I won't let him harm either of them."

Astrid smiled at Etta. "I know sweetie, but please be careful, Donald is right about Walternate. In that timeline he was a very bitter and vengeful man. A powerful person in his universe with many resources at his disposal."

Eddie tensed listening to the conversation. The idea of Etta finding herself up against such a dangerous man after going alone made his insides twist.

Etta remained quiet for a while, analysing the information that had been given to her. Until then she had been focused on the immediate problems of acquiring the items they needed and accomplishing their goal of getting there. While she had thought about what she would encounter once she reached that point in time, she had focused on the positives, of seeing her parents and preventing the Observer's invasion, she hadn't thought for a moment about the dangers which still lurked there. Donald was right, the mission that lay ahead of her should not be taken lightly.

She couldn't afford to convince herself that being from the future would give her leverage over anyone or make her infallible when dealing with the potential obstacles she could face. She needed to know everything that Donald intended to teach her in preparation for the mission. "What kind of training are we talking about here?"

"Remember the tests we conducted to gage the amount of Cortexiphan you have in your system?"

"Yes, you said that it had confirmed the results of the test my grandfather conducted when I was a child."

"Exactly. It also showed that your body produces the substance naturally and does not need activation like the process your mother and the other test subjects needed originally."

"Ok and what's that got to do with our training?"

"I will teach you to access your abilities, ones that I believe you poses, but which are dormant because you have never needed to use them before"

"What abilities?"

"I am certain you can crossover dimensions as your mother did. You can most likely also identify objects and persons from the Alternate Universe. Those two abilities may be very useful in order to succeed in your mission."

Etta looked in astonishment at Donald. "Wait, you're saying that you're going to teach me to cross to the Alternate Universe?"

"That is correct."

"Excellent! When do we start?"


	7. Christopher

**Chapter 7 – Christopher**

Simon had witnessed, countless times, people being read by the Observers.

The idea of having one's memories and thoughts ripped from them and exposed in such a violent manner, always made his insides twist.

Now he knew how it felt.

The pain was excruciating, like needles poking from the inside of his skull. He could almost feel the Observer probing his brain, searching through his memories for the reason that had lead him to steel the components that he had been caught with.

He was trying very hard to deflect like Etta had taught him to do. He thought of his parents, of his childhood home, in a world without Observers. The more he deflected, the harder the Observer pushed, forcing himself into his mind.

Simon felt hot, thick blood oozing sluggishly out of his ears and nose, sliding down his face and neck, it was almost soothing. He focused on that feeling, trying very hard to deflect the pain. He had to do his best not to think about the plan.

Suddenly the Observer released the grip he had on Simon's mind. "What, is the plan?" the Observer questioned, tilting his head.

'Shit,' Simon cursed to himself trying very hard to shift his thoughts away from that very thing.

At that exact same moment, the Observer turned his head to look behind him, taking his hand from Simon's neck, releasing him altogether. He felt himself slumping on the floor. Through his haze, Simon could see that someone was standing in the main corridor looking into the room through the open door.

In a blink of an eye, Simon watched the scene unfold in front of him almost in slow motion.

The Observer tilted his head looking in the direction of the person standing in the corridor. Simon knew he could not allow the Observer to leave the room, he already knew too much.

He had already reached into his pocket, taking advantage of his newfound liberty, his fingers finding one of the small anti-matter grenades which Donald had supplied to the resistance a few months ago. It only had a blast radius of five feet but if he acted quickly he could vaporize the Observer from the face of the Earth.

He looked at the person standing in the corridor. It was young Christopher. Simon smiled at him.

A shot was fired and at the same moment, Simon clicked the trigger of the grenade.

* * *

Chris stood paralysed from his position in the corridor, facing the opened door of the room where Simon and the Observer had been a fraction of a second before. He stared horrified at the void left behind by the grenade which Simon had detonated. A sphere of nothing, approximately ten feet in diameter, now occupied the centre of the room.

He could swear that the Observer had looked at his gun, probably noticing that it was a hyper-velocity weapon, capable of killing him. From his perspective there had been no warning before Simon had detonated the grenade, still he wasn't certain that the Observer hadn't managed to pull off a disappearing trick before the blast annihilated everything in its path.

He was expecting that at any second the Observer would appear from nowhere and launch an attack. Outside he could hear the shouts of alarm and footsteps of the loyalists who soon enough would be storming the 3rd floor of the building that he and Simon had infiltrated.

Still he couldn't stop staring at the void.

There was a creak of the door at the far end of the corridor being opened and that was enough to pull him out of his trance. He knew he didn't had much time until the loyalists would be turning the corner of the corridor that lead to the spot where he was standing.

Chris gave the devastated room one last look, scanning for the backpack containing the components that Simon had stolen. It was nowhere in sight. He cursed their bad luck, the raid had been all for nothing. Simon was dead and most probably the damned components had also been vaporized by the grenade.

Chris set off running in the opposite direction from where he had heard the door opening. At any moment the loyalist guards would be arriving. He ran as fast as he could, and as he went he cast a look to his left. Though the large windows, he could see outside to the parking lot in front of the building. A van had just arrived, its back doors were thrown open and a squad of uniformed men poured out.

What the hell had Simon got them into?

He reached a point where the corridor made a turn to the right. There, a few feet ahead of him, the corridor terminated at an open window which looked out from the back of the building. On the left side of the corridor were three doors and on the right only one. He tried opening the first two doors on the left with no luck.

Chris decided to try the window. He reached it and looked down, but jumping from the third floor wasn't something that appealed to him. A twisted ankle or worse would be expected. But the idea of being captured made up his mind.

He was preparing to climb out of the window when he heard shouts from outside.

More loyalists, the building was surrounded.

Cursing to himself, Chris quickly turned to the two remaining doors he hadn't yet tried opening.

From the other end of the corridor he could now hear the voices of his pursuers. They appeared to have stopped their progression, surely on seeing the emptiness of the hole made by the grenade minutes before.

He prayed that the hack Simon had performed on the surveillance cameras of that floor, showing the same footage on an endless loop, hadn't yet been detected. Even so, he knew he would only have a few minutes, if that, before they would find him.

Failing with the first of the remaining doors, he gave the last and only door on the right side of the corridor a try.

Relief washed over him when the door knob turned and it opened wide. Closing it behind him, he searched for a possible way of escape or somewhere he could hide. What he saw caused goosebumps to erupt on his skin all over his body.

This room was much bigger than the one Simon had infiltrated, about three times its size.

Occupying a large area of the room were three rows of gurneys, with five to each one. Most of them had bodies laid on them. Naked bodies of men and women. Some had their scalps removed, with wires connected directly to their brains. Others had their abdomens or chests splayed open and had wires and tubes coming out of the cavities, connecting them to some kind of rectangular device that hung from the ceiling and was positioned a few feet above them. There was a device for each gurney and they all had a small tube connecting it to the left arm of the body directly beneath. An IV of sorts.

And if things weren't already weird enough, what freaked him out even more was when he noticed that every single one of them was breathing. Their chests were slowly rising and falling, their eyes open and staring at the ceiling with vacant looks.

The urge to vomit overwhelmed Chris, though he did his best to control it. He could not give in to it. There was no time to waste.

He approached one of the bodies with the removed scalp, a male in his early thirties. Chris waved his hand in front of his face but got no response, the individual continued to stare unblinkingly at the ceiling. Chris touched the man's arm and found his body was warm.

'What the hell is this place?' he asked himself as he looked around. There were some cabinets against the wall to his right, but they would be too obvious as a hiding place. A row of desks with terminals stood against the wall in front of him and on his left two workbenches were placed near the windows. Neither offered hope of laying undiscovered.

Chris noticed that two of the bodies hadn't been cut yet. The only thing they had was the IV in their arm.

He could hear the searchers coming ever closer now and they too were trying the doors on the corridor. He had to do something quickly.

Chris stripped. Removing his clothes until he was naked, he hid them in a drawer of one of the desks, then he sat on a vacant gurney. He pulled the IV tube from the device above the gurney and inserted the large needle into his left arm, careful not to do it directly into an artery. He bit his lower lip not to scream with the pain. He watched as a yellowish liquid slowly dripped through the tube and into his arm. Whatever the substance was, he prayed it would not kill him.

Laying down on the gurney he stared at the ceiling, doing is best to mimic the others in the room. The adrenaline running through is body wasn't making things easy. He took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself down.

The door clicked. He heard approaching footsteps and could see movement from the corner of his eye. Three to four loyalists, he couldn't be sure, had entered the room.

"What the hell is this place?" one of them asked the same question Chris had asked himself just moments ago.

"Don't know, don't care," another one answered.

"Let's do our job and get out of here people," a third and more authoritative voice said. "Ferguson, stop staring at the bodies and search the room."

"But, Sir, this..."

"Ferguson, don't ask questions to things you don't want to know the answer to. Just do your job and be thankful it's not you on one of those gurneys."

"Yes Sir."

Chris heard the cabinet doors being opened and closed and footsteps of men walking between the gurneys, but it all seemed strangely distant.

He also stopped feeling any pain in his left arm. A numbness was slowly seeping over his body.

A moonlike face hovered over him, staring. The urge to blink was tremendous. Chris gave is best not to cave in, but the loyalist didn't go away, he stayed watching him. It was becoming harder to hold off the urge to blink by the second, his nerves burned with the need to relent.

He couldn't hold it anymore so he gave in to it, yet his eyelids didn't move. Relief and concern simultaneously invaded. Something was wrong. Whatever the yellowish liquid was doing, it was already affecting the muscles in his face.

Then the loyalist finally moved away from him.

Close by, drawers were being opened and closed. Chris prayed they wouldn't find his clothes and that they would leave the room soon.

"Really? Do you think that someone could hide in there Ferguson?"

"Leave him alone Adams. Ferguson, that's enough. There's nothing in here, let's go!" The one in charge walked passed near Christopher's gurney, giving him a final glance.

They opened the door, but Chris could see from the corner of the eye that the one in charge had stopped and was looking his way.

"What is it Sir?"

Christopher's nerves were on edge, he wished he could close is eyes.

The loyalist approached a gurney to Chris' right. "I knew this face was familiar," he said referring to the body of a female he was staring at "I arrested this piece of trash a few weeks ago, resistance scum. Serves her well for punching me." He spat at the woman and walked away.

They finally left the room, closing the door behind them.

Chris swallowed with some difficulty. Even that was becoming increasingly harder to do.

He tried raising his right hand. He felt movement but it was like it wasn't his own arm he was lifting slowly above his body. He clumsily directed his right hand towards his left arm. It landed on his thigh near his left hand. He tried moving again, but he could hardly feel anything through the numbness of his fingers. He had no way to know if he was grabbing the needle.

He focused on moving his head, attempting to raise it to be able to see what he was doing. He managed to lift a few inches, enough to direct his hand to the needle.

When he was about to close his hand, his head dropped back on the gurney. He cursed to himself.

He took a few seconds to refocus, then tried a different approach. Slowly, Chris turned his head to the left, which gave him a partial view of his left arm, but enough to see the needle.

He resumed the task of grabbing it. He manoeuvred his thumb and index finger, positioning them at needle's base. He forced the fingers to close around it then dragged his hand down his arm, trying to slowly remove the needle, but his fingers slipped from the needle to the tube and he stopped the movement of his hand.

It wasn't working. He tried to apply more pressure, watching carefully until his fingers pressed the tube so it folded on itself.

He resumed the movement of his hand. He watched the needle move, very slowly, until it stopped altogether. The grasp he had on the tube had loosened and it had escaped from his fingers.

The needle had moved a millimetre, if that much. Chris would have huffed in frustration if he could.

It was time for a more radical approach. He slowly lifted his right arm as high as he could, perpendicular to his chest and placed it near the tube. Then he let it go, doing his best to let it fall in the direction of his left hand, with a perpendicular motion.

The movement caused the tube to be dragged by his right arm causing the needle to be yanked roughly away. Idly he watched the blood trickling from the tear caused by the needle, slowly making its way down his arm to the gurney. He prayed he hadn't severed any major arteries.

Chris had no idea for how long the effect of the yellowish liquid would last on his body. He had no choice but to wait and pray that he would regain control of his muscles. Returning his head to its previous position and having no energy left, he resumed staring at the ceiling. It gave him a chance to finally process what had happened.

* * *

Simon had asked Chris to go with him on a quick job, "Nothing too complicated," he had said; there were some components he needed to retrieve for Donald, from a loyalist facility.

He would use his Fringe Division credentials to gain access, then he would disable the cameras, on the floor from which he needed to steal the components, putting them on an infinite loop showing mundane footage.

All that Chris had to do was stay in the car outside to wait for him and be ready to drive in case things went south.

And surely enough things had gone south. Chris had watched from the car parked on the far side of the street, as Simon entered the room. The wide windows of the building gave him a good perspective of the corridor on the third floor.

He didn't spot any movement besides Simon and the three loyalist guards at reception on the first floor. It was late in the evening and everyone must had already gone home.

He remembered his stomach rumbling, so he opened the glove compartment, searching for anything that could ease his hunger. He settled for a dried vegetable stick, it tasted like cardboard.

Chris didn't have many years in the resistance, but he had already learned that when breaking into a building, having an alternative escape route was sometimes the difference between life and death. To entertain himself while waiting for Simon, he searched the building looking for a possible get away from the point where Simon was.

Soon he noticed an open window on the fourth floor on the left side of the building. The wide windows making the glass wall of the corridor could not be opened, and from his point of view the same corridor made a turn to the right before reaching the exterior wall to the left side of the building. The opened window on the fourth floor was obviously an office window.

On the same side a tree extended its branches almost to the fourth floor, it would provide easy access to both the second and third floors. Those were two possible escape routes.

It was at this point that things got complicated. Unexpected movement inside caught is attention.

He watched terrified as an Observer appeared from thin air, materialising in the corridor. The baldy walked towards the room that Simon was in. Chris tried calling Simon through the com device, but he never answered.

Chris got out of the car and went straight to the tree on the left side of the building, doing his best not to be spotted by the loyalist guards at the entrance.

He climbed until he reached the third floor. The window was closed and latched from the inside.

He descended the tree until he reached the window on the second floor. It wasn't locked, so he managed to sneak inside. On this floor the surveillance cameras were still active and he knew he would be spotted, but he had no choice.

He ran as fast as he could until he reached the entrance to the third floor off the stairwell. He stepped carefully through the corridor until he reached the door to the room where Simon and the Observer were.

He carefully peeked through the open door and what he saw made his stomach do somersaults. About twelve feet from the entrance of the room, the Observer was holding Simon by the neck. Blood was coming out of Simon's ears and nose.

Chris took out his hiper-velocity gun from the holster and braced himself for what he was about to do. He couldn't risk shooting the Observer while he was holding Simon. Taking a shot from where Chris stood, could risk hitting Simon too. He took a deep breath and stood facing the door, pointing the gun at the Observer's back.

"Hey!" he shouted. Then everything went to hell.

The Observer turned his head. The baldy released the grip he had on Simon's neck turning to Chris. Simon slowly slumped on the floor. It was the opportunity Chris needed.

He noticed Simon smiling at him and he fired the gun.

And all of a sudden there was nothing where a fraction of a second before Simon and the Observer stood. Chris knew very well what that meant.

He remembered Simon's orders a few months before. He could not be captured alive, no matter what. If threatened, they should use the new anti-matter grenades which Donald had developed from the ones they had stolen. They were spherical grenades, small enough to be hidden in a pocket, with limited range only potent enough to vaporize everything in a 5 feet radius. Simon called them their cyanide pill. There were rumours that the Observers had the technology to make the dead talk. After that, everyone started carrying at least one of those things with them.

Simon even made them swear that they would use the grenades on him, in the event of him being unable to trigger his own. Simon had argued that being the head of the resistance, he had valuable information that they simply could not allow to be disclosed to the Observers.

But Chris knew that there was more to it that Simon let on.

It had started a few months ago after they had stolen the anti-matter grenades. The secret meetings with Etta, Eddie and the new guy Donald. Then there were the raids to steel items that Chris had no idea what they were nor what the components were for. Something big was definitely going on.

Whatever this secretive missions was, it was now in danger. He had to regain control of his muscles and try to escape to warn the others about what had happened.

* * *

Chris drifted in and out of consciousness, with no concept of time.

He finally came to himself, blinking a few times, aware of a sharp pain in his left arm. He could feel his body again, although still a bit numb.

Slowly Chris hauled himself up and sat on the edge of the gurney, the effort of this alone sent him dizzy. Lowering his head and breathing deeply he willed it away, and that was when he noticed a small pool of blood where his arm had been resting just moments before.

He examined the ragged wound where he had torn the needle from his arm and found that the bleeding had already stopped, but it hurt like hell.

On wobbly legs Chris stood up and, more slowly than he would have liked, made his way over to the drawer where he had hidden his clothes. He tore a piece from the sleeve of his shirt and wrapped around the wound, making a bandage of sorts, then as quickly as he could, he dressed.

Through the windows he could see that night had fallen, though he had no idea what time it was. He stood quietly for a few seconds, listening for voices and footsteps. All was silent.

He crossed to the window, finding that it faced the back of the building. A fence of about eight feet high, stood fairly near to the building, perhaps about twenty feet away, separating the building's grounds from the street to the rear.

Beyond it were a line of small buildings, some with three storeys and others with four, on the far side of the road. There was no one in sight.

He had left the car in front of the building, but getting to it was out of the question. He would have to escape on foot.

He turned around and started searching the drawers and the cabinets, looking for something that could help him climb down from the window. He didn't want to chance escaping through the corridor.

He found a coil of the same tube used for the IVs connecting the bodies to the devices above the gurneys. He unrolled it. About fifteen feet of tube laid on the floor, not enough to reach the ground, but it would have to do. He wasn't even sure if the tube would hold his full weight.

He opened one of the windows and tied the tube to the base of one of the workbenches near the window. Gingerly he climbed out and started descending.

Immediately the tube began stretching. Chris did his best to stifle a scream of pain when he was forced to grab the tube with his left arm, he could see fresh blood blooming through the improvised bandage. The wound had reopened.

He climbed down as fast as he could. The tube must have been stretched near to snapping point by the time he reached the second floor. He let it go and fell to the ground, trying to land in the least painful way, allowing his knees to take the initial impact, then quickly rolling his body to the side. Still his landing hurt and he wasn't sure if he had sprained an ankle, or even broken something. Hobbling now, he made his way to the fence and climbed as fast as he could.

Once on the other side, he crossed the street and ran as quickly as his feet let him, turning into the first alley he found and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter went through multiple versions until I decided I was finally happy with the outcome.**  
**Once again Crystalline Green deserves all the beer in the world for her support, awesome editing/correcting and advising.  
****Hopefully the next chapter will arrive soon, it's already written and only waiting for Crys' expert editing.**  
**Thank you for the reviews, follows, favs and/or reading. I hope you're not disappointed.**  
**All mistakes are mine. See you all in the next chapter.**


	8. Difficult Decisions

**Chapter 8 – Difficult Decisions**

Eddie and Donald arrived at the address left by the resistance member that visited them early in the morning. They found a blind alley between two washout buildings on the outskirts of Boston.

Along with the address they had received message from Anil, Simon's lieutenant in the resistance. Apparently something had happened that had caused them to move to their new location. It wasn't unheard of, the resistance often moved from place to place to avoid being captured by the Observers.

But the fact that the message was sent by Anil and not Simon, was nagging at Eddie. Something didn't feel right.

They followed the instructions as given in the message and knocked on the door on the left side of the alley. After a few minutes a small window opened at eye level in the top third of the door, it revealed the face of an African-American woman. "What do you want?" she asked, sounding irritated.

"Frank sent us. He said you could help us move some merchandise," Eddie said, repeating the sentence he had memorized from the message and waited for the expected answer.

"I don't know any Frank."

"Neither do I."

"Come in," she said opening the door, now she had a smile for the duo.

"Kallyn," Eddie hugged the woman, a long-time friend from the resistance. He noticed the concern behind her smile.

Donald closed the door and shook Kallyn's hand.

"Let's go Eddie, Anil is waiting for you. We must hurry." She ushered them through a tight corridor to their right which led to a flight of stairs.

They descended the stairs until they reached another closed door. She knocked on it and as before, a small hatch was opened from the other side. A pair of dark eyes appeared behind the window.

"I've got two customers for Rose." Kallyn said to the man behind the door.

On hearing this phrase he immediately opened the door, revealing another corridor, this one longer than the one on the first floor.

"Go on, Gan will take you to Anil," Kaylln said, then she left them with her colleague.

Gan was a tall and heavily muscled eastern Asian man. "Come with me, guys," he said.

Eddie and Donald followed through the poorly lit corridor somewhere beneath the street. Resistance members passed them by, busy carrying boxes, backpacks and weapons.

They stopped in front of a door on the left side of the corridor and Gan knocked. "Come in" a familiar voice on the inside answered. Their escort opened the door for them but remained outside.

A small yet well organised office lay before them. Behind the desk sat Anil. They stepped inside and waited until Gan had closed the door.

Eddie noticed the sombre look on Anil's face and asked, "What was so urgent?"

"Something happened yesterday."

"What?" Eddie frowned, exchanging glances with Donald.

"Come with me, there's someone you need to talk to," Anil got up and they followed him out of the office and further down the corridor. He led them to a room with four beds, and an assortment of medical equipment making up a makeshift sickbay.

Darcy, a 70 year old retired nurse, was leaning over the only occupied bed, furthest from the door. She was giving a shot to someone Eddie didn't immediately recognize, as he was shielded from view by Darcy as she tended to her patient. "This will help you feel better, dear," the old woman said reassuringly.

"Darcy, could you give us a minute?" Anil smiled at her.

"Off course, I'm finished here," Darcy smiled back and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Eddie looked at the person laying on the bed. It was Christopher. A bandage had been wrapped around the elbow of his left arm, he was pale and looked worn, his countenance had the effect of ageing him more than his nineteen years of life should have.

"Are you feeling better?" Anil asked offering Chris a smile while the trio gathered around the young man's bed.

"Yeah, thanks. Whatever Darcy gave me, hit the spot," Chris gave them a tired smile and tried to sit up. He grimaced when he leant on his left arm.

"Whoa, mate, take it easy. Lay down, rest." Anil put his hand on Christopher's shoulder to prevent him from sitting up.

"It's ok Anil, I forgot about the injury that's all. I'm fine." He smiled taking Anil's hand from his shoulder and resumed his efforts to sit.

Eddie offered him a hand, which Chris took with his uninjured arm and used to haul himself up. Chris nodded his thanks, then he slowly and carefully shuffled himself into a comfortable position.

"What happened to you Chris?" Eddie asked the young man with concern.

Chris exchanged glances with Anil, who nodded, encouraging him to retell the events of the previous day. He took a deep breath and started recounting what he had gone through and what he had witnessed the day before.

Eddie and Donald glanced at each other several times during Christopher's narrative. They were clearly disturbed by the news of Simon's death, although they remained silent.

After Chris finished telling his story, Donald approached him. "Christopher, it is very important that you answer my question accurately."

The young man nodded.

"When the grenade detonated, was the Observer still present?"

"I… I think he was. Simon looked at me, he saw me," Chris lowered his head, emotion was taking over him, "he even smiled at me," he smiled too, with watery eyes. "The Observer turned his head in my direction and looked at me... it all happened so fast," he swallowed heavily. A tear escaped from his eyes and he cleaned his face with his sleeve.

"You are a very brave young man Christopher," Donald smiled at Chris. Eddie remained silent.

Chris shook his head, "I tried to kill to Observer and save Simon, but I wasn't fast enough. Simon told me several times that he could not be read by the Observers if he got caught. He even made me promise that I would use my anti-matter grenade if he was captured."

"He made us all promise," Anil added. "In fact he gave us specific instructions a few months ago about that. No matter what, he could not be read by the baldies." Anil looked intently at Donald and Eddie. They exchanged glances once more, which didn't go unnoticed by Anil. "If something happened to him, he ordered us to inform you immediately."

"He was a good man and a good friend," Eddie swallowed heavily, he had lost many friends over the years and it never got any easier. "We have to make sure he didn't die in vain."

"Whatever it was he was planning with you guys, you better do it fast," Anil said with a troubled look at Donald and Eddie, "There's no way to know if the badly escaped or that they don't already know what you guys are up to."

"He didn't come after me and it took me a few hours to get out of that damned building," Chris interrupted, "maybe the Observer really did get vaporised."

"Or they could be waiting for you guys to make your move. Waiting until you're ready to implement whatever you are planning and then when you are most vulnerable, they will strike." Anil added.

"That is a possibility," Donald acknowledged. "Christopher, answer just one more question; the components Simon intended to steal, what happened to them?"

"There was a small backpack on the floor close to Simon, but it was vaporized by the grenade," Chris lowered his head and took a deep breath. He looked up again, locking eyes with Donald, "I'm so sorry, I know you guys needed those components. Simon mentioned they were for you when we made our way to the building. It was supposed to be an easy job…" he trailed off, looking exhausted he lowered his head again.

"It's ok Chris," Eddie put a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder smiling at him. "Not everyone would have been brave enough to do what you did. Simon knew that. That is why he choose you to go with him."

Chris nodded, giving Eddie a sad smile.

"You rest now, mate. You went through a lot." Anil gave a small pat on Chris shoulder before the three men exited the room, leaving the young man by himself.

Anil closed the door behind him.

"I am really sorry to hear about Simon. I know he was a good friend of yours," Donald said to Anil as they were walking towards his office. "He was also a good friend of ours."

"The life expectancy of a resistance member isn't very high." Anil stopped at the door of his office. "We all knew what we were getting into when we signed up for this job. But you are right, Simon was a very good friend and a great leader. We're all are going to miss him dearly." Eddie and Donald both nodded in agreement. "Whatever you guys are up too, I really hope you succeed. And if you need anything, we will do our best to help."

"That's very kind of you Anil." Eddie gave a small pat on Anil's back, as a thank you gesture.

"You should go now. You guys better start working on whatever it is you are planning."

Donald and Eddie said their goodbyes and walked back towards the exit. They left the building and went straight to their car. It was mid-morning in what was once a busy area of Boston, but which was now sparsely populated, only a few people roamed the street where they had parked.

Eddie took the driver's seat. "We have to warn Etta and Astrid," he said starting the car while Donald settled into the passenger side.

"No Edward, let them stay at Raiden Lake."

"I wasn't going to ask them to return, Donald. I was thinking of telling them to stay there until we move to another hiding place."

Donald shook his head, "We will go immediately to our hideout and gather everything we need. Then we will go to them."

"What? To Raiden Lake?" Eddie frowned, "But there's nothing there, just wilderness and a few houses. It's a good place to hide, I give you that, but we need the right components to build the interface to program the wave sync machine. We won't find what we need there and we have to move fast."

"I know that Edward," Donald paused for a few seconds, straightening himself in his seat. "Henrietta has been making a lot of progress this last month. She is now fully capable of accessing and controlling her abilities. We can take advantage of that."

"How? She's going to conjure the components out of thin air?" Eddie stared incredulously at Donald, "You know that Anil is right. The Observer might have escaped. They may very well be already aware of our plan and waiting for us to get everything ready. And when we are, they will strike and finish us and the plan. Once and for good."

"I am aware of that Edward; that was precisely what they did when we tried to implement the other plan. They had known about our intentions for weeks, but they only attacked when we were about to execute the plan, thus ending all hopes of ever utilising the same plan again." Donald paused for a few seconds, the events regarding the outcome of their original plan was still an uncomfortable subject for him. He breathed deeply then continued, "If they now know about our new plan, then it will be expected that they will employ the same strategy."

"So you're saying that if they know, wherever we go and whatever we do, there's no hope? There's nothing we can do to succeed? They will win?" Eddie shook his head, staring at Donald with a desperate look in his eyes.

"I would tell you to pray to a deity of your choice that they do not know. If you believe in one."

Eddie looked away from Donald, trying to concentrate on the road. The chances of successfully carrying out the plan seemed very gloomy all of a sudden.

They remained in silence for a few minutes. Eddie continued to drive, though his attention was on the meagre traffic ahead of them, his thoughts were miles away. Donald examined the expression on the young man's face, "Do not look so sombre my friend."

Eddie met Donald's gaze. His almost expressionless features, whatever the situation, amazed Eddie ever since he had met the former Observer. He remained silent waiting for Donald to elaborate.

"What we can do is continue to work on the plan and take measures to reduce the chances of the Observers finding us or the location from where we intend to execute the plan."

"That's why you want to hide out at Raiden Lake? But how are we going to find the parts we need for the interface?"

"We are not going to hide."

Eddie frowned, waiting for Donald to continue.

"We are going somewhere the Observers will not anticipate and where we can easily access the technology we will need. If they know about the plan it will be harder for them to find us. If they still do not know, going to the place I have in mind will reduce the chances of them ever finding out."

"What place is that?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic answer his friend had given.

Donald smiled, "You will see."

* * *

**A/N This chapter was edited, corrected and improved by Crystalline Green. Everything else is my fault.**


	9. There's More Than One of Everything

**Chapter 9 – There's More Than One of Everything**

Lincoln Lee reclined against a tree not far from his vehicle idly reading a report. In the last few weeks, a series of events around Raiden Lake had drawn the attention of the Fringe Division. Breaches formed out of nowhere, only to disappear in a matter of seconds. These events always happened in pairs with just few minutes between them, sometimes they occurred in the exact same spot, others in a different location, but never very far from each other. So far they could find no discernible pattern to the breaches, making them impossible to predict.

They had made significant progress in the last two decades, their world's healing continued even after the bridge was closed - in spite of their initial fears - although at a much slower rate. There were only a few residual areas still covered in amber that experts estimated could be freed in the next five years.

There had been no such reports of events like these since the closing of the bridge twenty three years ago. The appearance of new breaches had raised alarm, bordering on panic within the government. No one wanted to get back to the old days of ambering areas.

For now the breaches were located only around Raiden Lake and there hadn't been any need for reinstatement of containment protocol. Still, the full force of Fringe Division had been brought to investigate the cause of the elusive breaches.

The last four days had been quiet. The events had stopped altogether. Some believed - or rather hoped - that it was for good, but Lincoln thought otherwise. His gut told him that this, whatever it was, wasn't over yet.

He had been away for more than a week. After three days without incident, Olivia had suggested he return home, leaving a small team behind to monitor the situation. However Lincoln insisted he stay at least for a couple more days, even though, and perhaps because he felt frustrated with the fruitless investigation.

They had been close to one of the breaches during the last event, but they missed it by a few seconds.

He took a sip from his cup of coffee, enjoying the early afternoon sun. He still remembered, when he first came to the universe he now called home, how difficult it was to get a cup of the black beverage. Only the elite of society had access to it, being expensive as it was.

With time, the healing process had restored many areas not only in the cities but also in the countryside, increasing the land available for agriculture. A very restrictive and efficient environmental policy and the advancement of science, made possible the restoration of many species once endangered or that had even been lost to The Blight in the past.

Lincoln's favourite was, of course, coffee. A memory flashed in his mind that made him smile. The day that the drink had once more been made available to the general public, Olivia had arrived home with an espresso machine, four bags of coffee and a huge smile on her face.

He was brought back from his inner thoughts by a fellow member of the Fringe team. "Sir! It's happening again!"

Lincoln scrambled to his feet. "Do we have a location?"

"Yes Sir, about a mile and a half from here."

They headed for the van they had been using as a makeshift situation room. He looked at the red dot displayed on the small screen of the monitor, then he turned to the other agents. "Ok everybody you all know what to do, let's get there ASAP, if it follows the same pattern as before, we won't have much time until it closes up again."

As they rushed to their vehicles, Lincoln tapped his ear to activate his com device.

"Dunham." his wife answered.

"Olivia, we've got another breach here at the Lake, we're on our way."

"So, you were right after all. It didn't stop like we thought it had."

"You seem disappointed that I was, hon," he said grinning to himself.

"I'm disappointed that I'm not there with you. After all these years since the bridge was closed, we're getting these breaches and I'm stuck in an office behind a desk."

He could imagine her annoyance and pouting from the other end of the line. "Well, nobody forced you to accept the position of Chief of Fringe Division."

"And miss the chance to be your boss? You know how I like to be on top."

He rolled his eyes, imagining the teasing smile she was sure to be wearing. "I'll call you back after we get to the site. Love you"

"Be careful Lincoln. Love you too."

The team stopped their vehicles a few yards away from the location and approached carefully, in formation on foot. They reached a small glade in the woods, not far from the lake. To their surprise they found a young blonde woman in her early twenties in the centre of the clearing, right on the spot where the breach had been registered. She was sitting in a lotus position, her hands resting in her lap, her eyes closed and her head slightly raised, taking in the sun rays that poured through the gap in the trees.

"Put your hands behind your head and do not move!" Lincoln commanded the woman.

She opened her eyes and did as Lincoln instructed, "I'm not a threat, Agent. I mean you no harm."

Lincoln and the other agents approached her cautiously. As they drew closer Lincoln sent one of his guys forward to search for weapons and her ID. "She's clear sir, but I can't find any show me card on her," the agent reported.

"You can stand now, but no sudden movements," Lincoln said moving closer to the young woman. He couldn't help noticing the resemblance to someone he knew very well. He also noticed her surprised expression when her eyes registered his name tag.

Lincoln took a small gadget from his inside jacket pocket. It resembled the smartphones that they used to have in his home universe, although this device was an ID tracker, it had a small indent where a finger could be placed in order to scan the fingerprint and collect a DNA sample of a suspect.

"Give me your hand please," he said to the woman, who once more did as he asked.

"This shouldn't hurt, but you'll feel a slight vibration." He gently grabbed one of her fingers and placed it on the device's indent. In a few seconds the ID tracker gave him the results.

Since a few years back, it became mandatory that every citizen had their fingerprints and DNA registered on the federal database; therefore it was with some surprise that Lincoln saw that neither search had returned a positive result. The young woman didn't exist in their database.

He expanded the search to international databases, still nothing. He accessed the device's 'Possible Relatives' option to access possible matches from the DNA archives.

The results that the device suggested took him by surprise. "Who are you?" he asked narrowing his eyes at the young woman.

She took a few seconds studying Lincoln intently. "You're Lincoln Lee, right?"

He gave a small nod and she smiled at him. "I come from your Universe." Lincoln winced when he heard this, although he already harboured a slight suspicion of such a possibility, having found the girl at the exact same spot where the breach had formed and with no record of her existence on their database.

"My name is Henrietta Bishop, I'm the daughter of Peter Bishop and Olivia Dunham, granddaughter of Secretary Walter Bishop. I came here hoping to talk to him, if he is still alive."

Lincoln looked back at the ID tracker device, what the young woman had said made sense to the results he got previously.

99.9% probability of being the daughter of Olivia Dunham, half-sister of Trevor Dunham-Lee – his own son - granddaughter of both Walter and Elizabeth Bishop from the paternal side and also granddaughter of Marilyn Dunham from the maternal side.

Lincoln stared back at Etta, dumbfounded.

"Please, I need your help," she said with a pleading look.

Lincoln ordered his fellow agents to holster their weapons and stood in front of Etta. He took his time, weighing his thoughts and studying her features.

After a while he smiled at her. "Nice to meet you Henrietta," he offered his hand. "As you already seem to know, I'm Agent Lincoln Lee, Fringe Division. I used to work with your parents."

Etta smiled back, for once fate seemed to have thrown her a bone; of all the people in this universe, Lincoln Lee was the one who had found her. "Aunt Astrid told me about you. It's an honour to meet you. Please, call me Etta," she said accepting Lincoln's hand for a shake.

The fact that she had mentioned Astrid, not Olivia or Peter had not escaped Lincoln. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him that something had gone wrong and that whatever it was had taken its toll on his friends.

"Etta, it is and it's an honour to meet you too. How are your parents?"

Immediately Etta's smile dropped. An uncomfortable feeling overtook Lincoln as he watched the change of demeanour in the young woman.

"They died when I was seven."

Lincoln was livid. It had been twenty three years since he had last seen his former colleagues and friends, but he still had fond memories of them. Knowing that they were dead, especially Olivia, without whom, his life would have been very different.

Because of her he found the peace he had never quite felt in his home world, he discovered his place here in another world.

Since he made his decision, he'd not once regretted coming here. He was happy, his new found sense of belonging ensured it. Everything and everyone that he loved were in this reality. Nevertheless, throughout the years, he would sometimes wonder about his native universe and those he had left behind.

He always imagined Olivia and Peter getting married and having children, maybe one or two. After all, she had sacrificed a lifetime of memories to be with Peter. The least that she deserved was to have a family who loved her and all the happiness in the world.

Never, not even in his worst nightmares, had something like Etta had described to him crossed his mind.

A deep sense of sadness washed over him. "I… I'm so sorry Etta."

"It's ok, it was a long time ago," she gave him a tight, sad smile.

"What happened?" Lincoln hated himself for asking that, having lost his mother at a young age he knew how hard it was. He could only imagine how it must have been for Etta losing both her parents.

"You remember the Observers?"

"Yes."

"Turns out they had a hidden agenda. They invaded our world back in 2015. We didn't stand a chance. They were, and are, much more advanced than us. Still, my parents lead the resistance against them since the invasion began. A few years after, they were caught in an ambush. They both died that day."

Lincoln felt a void open up inside him; a mixture of sadness, regret and guilt invaded, for not being there to help his friends. While they were fighting for the survival of his home world, he was happily living with his wife and son in the universe he now considered to be his own.

He took Etta in his arms embracing her. She stiffened, surprised by the unexpected gesture, but she hugged Lincoln back after a moment's hesitation.

After breaking the embrace, he looked Etta in the eyes, so she could know that he meant every word he was about to say. "I'm glad you came to us. We'll help you however we can and you are welcome to stay here with us for as long as you want. Olivia... my Olivia will be very happy to meet you and I'm sure your grandparents will be too."

Etta's demeanour changed when she heard her mother's name. "Olivia? You mean the Olivia Dunham from this universe?"

"Yes," Lincoln answered with a nod. "She's my wife."

"I see," she gave Lincoln a small smile, trying to hide her surprise. Donald and Astrid had told her about the Olivia Dunham of this universe, and now she found herself face to face with her husband. She felt conflicted with the imminent prospect of meeting this Olivia. Etta knew she wasn't her mother, but the idea of seeing a living carbon copy of her long dead parent gave her an uneasy feeling.

"Thank you, it will be an honour to meet your wife." She finally said, nodding and giving Lincoln a grateful smile, hoping to hide her discomfort.

"You're welcome." Lincoln directed her to his vehicle.

"So, you're the one responsible for the breaches we've registered this last month, around Raiden Lake?" he smiled at the young woman. "You sure know how to make an entrance Etta."

"I'm so sorry about that. I've been practising crossing over," she said with an apologetic smile, "it won't cause any imbalance in your universe, Donald assured me of that."

"Donald?"

"He's a good friend of mine and kind of an expert on this universe hopping stuff. He worked with Walter and my parents fighting the Observers."

"I see," Lincoln smiled at Etta. "Come on, we have a few hours on the road ahead of us. Protocol demands that we debrief you at Headquarters in New York. But don't worry it's just bureaucracy. Besides, Olivia's there, she would kill me if I didn't take you to meet her," he said rolling his eyes, which earned a full smile from Etta.

* * *

During their trip to New York, Etta explained in depth everything that happened after the invasion. Lincoln asked a few questions about her parents and the Observers, but other than that, he remained quiet.

By the time they arrived in New York, it was late afternoon and the sun was already setting. Etta kept looking out through the window of the car at her surroundings in wonder. The well-kept buildings, the streets full of life, with people bustling about their business, the shop windows full of lavish articles - many of which Etta had never seen before.

But it was the city lights that most impressed her. She had never seen anything quite so beautiful. Etta felt a pang of sadness for her own world, this was how it could have been without the Observers. It also galvanised her determination to accomplish her mission.

Lincoln had called ahead to Olivia to tell her whom he was bringing with him. She was waiting when they finally reached Fringe Division Headquarters.

Etta froze when she saw Olivia. She had tried to prepare herself for that moment on the voyage to New York, but she couldn't help being consumed by mixed fillings of sadness and envy. Before her, was a reminder of how her mother should be, if only the Observers hadn't taken her life at such a young age.

At the same time it didn't seem fair that it had to be her universe and her loved ones to suffer at the hands of the Observers; why not this one or some other universe and someone else's loved ones? She immediately felt guilty for having such feelings, these people had done nothing to deserve such a fate. Then again, neither had her people.

Still, she had been given the opportunity to get a glimpse of how things could become if their plan succeeded.

Lincoln gave Etta a light pat on the back encouraging her to go meet his wife.

Olivia, noticing Etta's reaction, approached her slowly. Lincoln hadn't said much when he called ahead to tell her whom he was bringing, but he had informed her of the fate of Peter, and of her Alternate. She could only imagine what Etta must have been feeling, finding herself confronted with the double of her dead mother. "I'm so happy to meet you Etta," Olivia tentatively put her arms around the young woman. She smiled in relief when Etta returned the embrace.

"Let's go to my office, we'll do the debriefing there. I just need you to tell me everything that happened."

"Sure," Etta smiled back at Olivia after breaking the embrace.

"I'm going to take care of some paperwork and I have some phone calls to make," Lincoln said. "Many people will be relieved to know that there's no threat from the breaches. I'll catch up with you girls later." And with that he left the two women alone.

Finally settled down in Olivia's office, they began the debriefing which Olivia insisted on conducting herself. Etta filled her in on the history of significant events, beginning with the Invasion and the reasons behind it. She told Olivia that they had a plan which they hoped would defeat the Observers, but skipped the details of the plan. She didn't know how they would react if they knew that her side was planning on undo the reset of the timeline, erasing everything that happened in both worlds after the bridge was formed. Ergo, everything that had been achieved in this reality from that point on, would also be erased. Donald had instructed her to reveal this to Walternate alone and only then because they hadn't much choice.

Olivia listened to Etta's account. She couldn't help feel a bit responsible for the young woman, after all, she was her doppelgänger's daughter. What happened to the other universe could easily have happened to theirs. The thought of her son going through an ordeal like that which Etta had described, made her feel anguished. She could only imagine what her husband must have felt after hearing Etta's story. She made a mental note to talk to him as soon as they made it back to the comfort of their home.

Olivia made a promise to herself that she would help Etta in any way she could. She knew her alternate would have done the same for her son if their positions were reversed and in similar circumstances.

"You said you have a plan to defeat the Observers?" Olivia said getting up from her chair.

"Yes, that's right."

"What can we do to help?"

"I need to talk with my grandfather. Lincoln already told me that he and my grandmother are still alive and living in Boston."

"Yeah, the old man still gives lectures in Harvard at the age of ninety." Olivia said chuckling.

"Really?" Etta asked surprised by her grandfather's vitality at such an old age.

"Actually, it's not that uncommon. Our medicine was already more advanced than yours back when the bridge was open. In these last two decades, science has advanced a lot. Now they can even grow human organs from scratch. Necessity for human donors is a thing of the past for us. So it's normal - people getting to the age of one hundred and ten or even one hundred and twenty and remain healthy nowadays." Olivia smiled and walked towards the coffee machine. She poured a cup for herself then turned to Etta. "Coffee?"

"No thanks, I'm fine," Etta shook her head. "Could you take me to meet my grandparents? Please?"

Olivia approached Etta and rested her cup of coffee on her desk. She knelt in front of the young woman's chair at took her hand. "I already talked to them and they are very excited to meet you."

Etta smiled, "Thank you."

Lincoln knocked and entered the office at that moment. "When you're finished, there's a helicopter waiting for you on the roof. We've set up the meeting with your grandparents. Your grandfather may be retired from the DoD, but he still has a lot of influence." He said putting his hand on Etta's shoulder.

Etta got up and hugged him, then she turned to Olivia and hugged her too. "Thank you so much, both of you."

"There's nothing to thank us for, Etta. It's the least we can do." Lincoln said with a rueful smile.

They both escorted her to the helipad on the roof where the chopper was waiting. Etta turned once more to Olivia and Lincoln, "Thank you, again."

"What I told you at the lake stands, Etta," he said to her, "You are welcome to stay here, you have a home with us."

"For as long as you want." Olivia agreed.

Etta stared at them for a few seconds, then nodded. "You are very generous, thank you." The couple waved her off as she boarded the helicopter. Etta waved them back after she slid the door shut.

They took off almost immediately and the ride was quick. Within fifteen minutes the helicopter was landing at an airfield near Cambridge, Boston, where a town car was waiting for her.

After another ten minutes on the road, the driver pulled up outside a large colonial house. Etta stepped out of the car onto a paved drive surrounded lavish gardens, filled with vibrant colour and alluring scents, another reminder of the differences between their two sides.

She noticed an old couple standing at the door of the house. She thanked the driver before walking towards them.

"You must be Henrietta," the old woman said.

"Yes, I am Ma'am."

"You are such a beautiful young woman," The old woman opened her harms to welcome Etta with a hug. "Please call me Elizabeth. I'm so happy to meet you."

"I'm very happy to meet you too."

Next she turned to Walternate, who also pulled her in for a surprisingly fierce hug. He planted a chaste kiss in her forehead then pulled back to take her in. "I have always wondered how my grandchildren would have turned out to be." His smile contained the weight of long held sadness, but it was wide and warm. "Now I know."

Elizabeth took Etta by the arm and led her in. "Come on inside dear. I'm sure you must be very tired and hungry. Please, stay with us tonight, we've prepared the guest room. Once you're settled, join us for dinner."

"You're very kind, I didn't mean to bother you."

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth interrupted. "You will always be welcome here and you can stay with us for as long as you like."

Etta took in every single detail of the house as she was guided to the guest room. She had never seen such an impeccably decorated home. Everything was neatly arranged and in its right place, yet it felt warm and cosy.

They gave her a few minutes after showing her to the guest quarters that would be hers for the night, before leading her to the dining room where a meal was already waiting for them.

During a delicious dinner, far more extravagant than anything Etta had ever enjoyed before – and for the third time that day – Etta recounted the events since the Observers had taken over her world. Walternate and Elizabeth listened intently to her tale and she didn't miss how sombre they became when she told of her parent's death.

"I'm so sorry my dear," Walternate offered, visibly shaken by what he had just heard. "If I had known sooner, I would have found a way to get to you."

"Thank you. But it's ok, you had no way of knowing. Besides they are more advanced than us, I don't think there would have been much you could have done."

"You may be right, but I could have offered sanctuary for you and your family. Your parents could be alive now."

"They would have never accepted." Etta assured him. "Not while knowing that our world needed them in the fight against the Observers. Even if they had sent me to this Universe when I was a child instead of to my aunt Rachel's, I would have gone back, as soon as I could, to fight them too."

Walternate nodded his understanding. "Agent Dunham told me that you crossed over because you needed something from me," he prompted.

"Yes, there are a few things I need to explain to you about the new plan we have formulated to defeat the Observers. I think that you may be able to help us a great deal."

"Of course my dear."

Elizabeth got up to clear the dishes. "Why don't you take our granddaughter to your office Walter? I'll finish up here," she suggested.

Etta was caught off guard by the way the old woman addressed her. Etta's surprise didn't go unnoticed by Elizabeth. "I'm sorry Etta, I didn't mean..."

"No, it's ok... I just never imagined I'd meet my grandma." Etta squeezed her hand and smiled.

Elizabeth squeezed her hand back and offered a warm smile. "Go with Walter my dear, you two must have important business to discuss."

Etta followed him to his office. Once inside, he sat at his desk and motioned Etta to sit across from him. "So, tell me. What can I do for you?"

* * *

Etta explained the plan in detail while Walternate listened to her without saying a word.

After hearing Etta's account, it was obvious to him the implications the plan would have for his own universe if the plan was successful. "If you go through with that plan, you must be aware that it will affect our side too."

"Yes," Etta nodded gravely. "That was one of the reasons that I wanted to talk to you before I travel to the past."

Walternate got up from his chair and paced the office for a few moments, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he stopped and looked at Etta. "My main concern is the wellbeing and the safety of the people of my world."

On hearing this, Etta couldn't help but feel apprehensive, yet she remained silent.

"Thus, it would be foolish to disregard a threat like the Observers. Who's to say they won't turn against our universe once they are finished with yours? The least I can do for you is to help you the best I can."

Etta got up and hugged Walternate in an explosion of relief. "Thank you... Grandpa."

He returned the hug, gently patting her back. "You don't have to thank me my dear."

After they parted, Walternate moved towards the liquor cabinet, opening it and taking out a bottle of scotch and two tumblers. "You're old enough to share a drink with me. But don't tell Elizabeth," he said with a wink, "You see, my Doctor says that I shouldn't be drinking, but at my age, I don't have to listen to him anymore."

Etta let out a small chuckle and accepted the glass he offered. He took a sip from his own drink, leaning against his desk, next to her. "You said that telling me about the plan was one of the reasons you came here."

"Yes."

"What was the other?"

"One of the few people that knew about our plan died a few days ago. He was captured by an Observer while he was trying to steal components we need for the plan. We know he detonated an anti-matter grenade in an attempt to avoid compromising the plan, sacrificing himself in the process, but we are unsure whether the Observer managed to escape and-or if he got to read anything of our intentions from Simon's mind. He was a very good friend."

"I'm so very sorry to hear that, my dear."

"We were hoping you would give us sanctuary here. It gives us the advantage as we don't think the Observers will anticipate it, though I know that there's a risk they could follow us and I completely understand if you don't want us here…"

"Henrietta," he gently touched Etta's shoulder. "It's ok my dear, I will do everything in my power to help you with the plan. And it will be a pleasure having and your friends with us, Elizabeth will be thrilled."

"Thank you so much." She gave a gentle squeeze to his hand where it rested on her shoulder.

"Now, it is very important that you and your friends do not disclose the details of the plan to anyone on this side. For now, it will stay only between us."

Etta shook her head instinctively understanding what he was putting on the line for them, "We won't tell anyone."

Walter's thoughts were traveling in the same direction, "We have made great progress in the last two decades. Some people may not like the idea of going back to the past, jeopardizing all that we have accomplished, to change it."

"I understand," Etta nodded, feeling the weight or responsibility squarely on her shoulders.

"Personally I believe that if your plan is successful, the bridge will still be formed. And it may even be open for longer than it was in this timeline. The man ultimately responsible for the closure of the bridge, went by the name of David Robert Jones. In the previous timeline, your father killed that same man when he tried to cross over to our side one year before the bridge was formed."

"So you think that since he doesn't exist in that timeline when the machine is activated, the bridge will remain open?"

"That is a possibility my dear. But off course there will be others that would disagree with my theory."

"I see and rest assured, we will not breathe a word of this anyone." Etta smiled and took a small sip of her drink gathering her thoughts. "There's one other thing. Donald needs to build an interface to program the wave sync machine. With Simon's death, we are having trouble finding the right hardware to build it. With your resources, we anticipate that will be a task easier to complete over here. We were hoping you could help us with that too."

Walternate very deliberately returned to his seat and opened a drawer of his desk, from which he removed a small device gently placing before Etta. "I think I have the very thing your friend needs."

She looked at the contraption in wondrous confusion. "I built that for your father, many years ago," he explained with a sad smile.

Etta gaped, "Is this…?"

He nodded, "It's an interface to communicate with the wave sync machine."

Etta looked for approval, receiving a small nod, before she took the small device from the desk to examine it carefully.

Walternate leaned further forward in his chair, a memory of old forming in his mind. "When your father appeared a few months after the bridge was formed, he looked very hard for a way to return to his own timeline. Back then he was convinced he belonged neither here, nor there. No one remembered him, he had no past.

"In the beginning the other Walter wasn't very keen to help, because he refused to accept Peter has is son. So after I met your father, I took upon myself to help him, that's when I started building this interface.

"However, my Elizabeth managed to convince your Walter to help Peter and they built an interface themselves." He circled the edge of his tumbler with his thumb, lost in his memories.

"But once your mother recovered her memories from the old timeline, Peter finally accepted that he was already home. He settled there, though he was within in a world where only one woman remembered him. I guess being with your mother was more than enough for him." He smiled and took another sip of is drink, still looking at the device. "I never got around to giving him this one. After the bridge closed I kept it with me as a reminder of your father."

He finally looked at Etta, a gentle smile forming in his lips. "It's ironic that if your plan succeeds, in a way, you are going to be the one to send him back home, after all these years."

Etta remained silent, without touching her drink. The significance of what her grandfather had said struck her hard, a lump formed in her throat. It was uncanny how her voyage to the past would affect her loved ones. It was within her hands to mend so many wrongs that had happened to them. She had the power to give them another chance at a normal life.

Maybe it had been her destiny all along to take such a dangerous journey.

Walternate noticed the thoughtful look on his granddaughter's face. He raised his glass. "To new beginnings," he offered. Etta raised her glass to meet his, toasting with the gentle ring of clinked glass. Together they drank. Walternate taking the final sip, finishing his drink, gave her a cheerful smile.

"Now young lady, you need to get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow, there is much to be done to prepare for your journey."

* * *

**A/N Crys you did it again, you're the best matey! :)  
**


	10. A New Home

**Chapter 10 – A New Home.**

Eddie paced the living room of the old Bishop's house at Raiden Lake were they'd been staying the last few days.

Astrid chuckled watching the young man. "You're going to wear a hole and fall into the basement if you keep up like that."

"It's been almost a day since she crossed over," he stopped and turned to Astrid, "What if they arrested her or something?"

"Relax Eddie. There's no reason they would do that." Astrid put down the book she'd been reading. "When the bridge closed, we were on good terms with them. We were working together to defeat the new shapeshifters. Lincoln even told me that we were considered heroes on the other side, for helping their world to heal."

"Lincoln? That's the guy you told us about, right? The guy who used to work with you and my aunt, the one who stayed on the other side when the bridge closed?"

"Yes, he's an old friend and a former member of our Fringe team. He decided to stay there when we severed the bridge. I really hope he is ok, I'd really love to see him and the other members of their Fringe Division team again."

"I still don't know if it's a good idea, us crossing over." Eddie turned to Donald, who was fiddling with a selection of electronic parts scattered over the living room table. "I mean, first you tells us that we can't go with Etta to the past because we would need drugs to recover from the trip and now you want us to cross over to an Alternate Universe?"

Donald looked up from his work to gaze at him as impassively as always. "Those are totally different things my young friend," he set the parts aside and gave Eddie his full attention. "We will be crossing over with Etta. She has the ability to bend the fabric of both universes without damaging the integrity of the space. She will not cause harm to herself nor to whatever and whomever she takes along with her. Exactly as her mother was able to do."

"Exactly the same way the Bridge worked, a stable corridor," Astrid interjected, "people were able to go back and forth all the time without any problems whatsoever."

"Exactly," Donald nodded to Astrid.

"Ok, I get it. So why is traveling to the past so dangerous? Isn't it supposed to be the same thing?"

"No Edward. We will be using technology to facilitate time travel, while your cousin uses her natural ability to jump universes. The device we will use to travel in time is based on the Dizray machine Etta's grandfather designed. As you may recall, it is a teleportation machine that affects the subject's body at an atomic level. It will teleport us to the past. The last person that used a prototype of that machine was David Robert Jones in the original timeline. He had to recover in a modified decompression chamber for many hours. We will not have such luxury once we arrive there, nor will we have access to the drugs that would be required to replace the need for decompression."

Eddie listened without saying a word. He continued to pace the living room deep in thought. After a few minutes he stopped and turned to Donald, "Maybe the other side has one of those chambers, or drugs similar to what we'd need."

Once again Donald paused his task and turned to the young man, "It is a possibility, although I have doubts they will. I do not believe that they possess technology similar to the Dizray machine, although they are technologically advanced compared to this universe. Therefore it is most unlikely they would develop drugs or the chamber required to counter the effects of a device they do not possess."

Eddie huffed, frustrated by both the waiting and for, once again, having his hopes of traveling with Etta burned to the ground. He slumped on one of the couches. "This waiting is killing me," he complained.

They remained quiet for the next few minutes, each of them engrossed in their own tasks and thoughts, though in Eddie's case, the lull was plagued by worries and nagging doubts.

The silence was broken when the outside door was jerked open wide, startling the three inhabitants of the house. "I'm back!" Etta announced with a big smile.

Eddie jumped from the couch, grabbed his cousin hugging her tightly.

She hugged him back, "I'm very happy to see you too, Eddie," she said smiling and a bit surprised by his reaction.

They broke apart after a few seconds, but Eddie didn't release her completely, instead he maintained contact with her shoulders at arm's length. He fixed her with a serious expression and shook her lightly, punctuating his words as he asked, "What took you so long?"

She stared back, amused by her cousin's concern and stern look, "I went shopping and lost track of time."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, surprised by her answer. She pressed on, "You won't believe the variety of clothes they have on the other side. The girls over there wear these tiny little skirts that barely cover your modesty, but they're so sexy. Apparently the 60's are in again, whatever that means. Anyway, they're to die for! I bought five of those!"

Eddie kept staring at his cousin, a look of disbelief on his face, "You what?"

Etta snorted, "God Eddie, sometimes you really seem to be sarcasm impaired."

"Yeah, I keep forgetting that you're the family comedian," he said with a disapproving look.

Astrid pulled Etta for another hug. "He was worried about you, go easy on him."

Etta hugged her back smiling, "I know, I just couldn't help it, he's such an easy target."

Astrid smiled back, shaking her head, "You're really are you're father's daughter."

Etta pulled away from Astrid with a grin and turned to Donald who remained in his seat, quietly watching the interaction between his companions. She smiled and walked towards him, "Come here, you need a hug too," she bent down and swiftly threw her arms around Donald.

"It is nice to see you again Henrietta," he said giving a gentle pat on Etta's back. "I assume everything went as we expected, judging by your demeanour?"

"Yes it did. My grandfather is on board with the plan."

"I assume you explained the details only to him?"

Etta rolled her eyes, "Yes, Donald, I only told him and he actually agreed with you that it was for the best. He is of the opinion that we should refrain from speak about it with anyone once we've crossed over."

"Yes, that is wise."

"He's actually waiting for us, in this same house on the other side." She turned to Astrid, "Your friend Lincoln and his wife Olivia are there too."

"Lincoln is there? My God that is wonderful!" Astrid smiled widely at the thought of seeing her old colleague and friend again. Then she frowned "Wait a minute, did you just said 'his wife Olivia'?"

"Uh-huh," Etta confirmed nodding her head.

"Olivia Dunham from over there?" Her question received a confirming nod from Etta. "Oh my God, that is amazing, I'm so happy for him!" she squealed, then shifted closer to Etta and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Did you know that Lincoln had a really big crush on your mom?"

"He did?" Etta's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yup. Believe me that for a while I thought Olivia was going to pursuit it, but then your father came along and after a while she recovered her memories and Lincoln..."

"...went to the other side and married a carbon copy of her. That is kind of... weird?" Etta completed with a grimace. "Does the other Olivia know anything about that?"

"I have no idea and I'm sure not going to be the one to tell her." Both women giggled at each other.

Eddie stepped between the two putting one arm around each of the women's shoulders. "Have you girls finished with the gossip?" he said looking back and forth between Etta and then Astrid. Then he focused his attention back on his cousin, fixing her with with a reproachful look. "First fashion tips and now gossip? Really? Who are you and what have you done with my cousin?"

"Look, Eddie made a joke. There is still hope for you." Etta said in a mocking tone and took his hand from her shoulder. "Besides, believe me, you are going to love those skirts..."

Eddie frowned, but didn't say a word. Etta pressed on, "A good looking young man like you from another universe, those girls will be revealing much more than a bit of leg in no time…" she left the comment hanging and winked at him.

"Yes of course, that's why I'm going there, to hit on women," Eddie retorted a bit embarrassed by his cousin's suggestive remark.

"It would do you good to get laid," Etta grinned at her cousin, enjoying the fact that she was successfully making him squirm.

"Oh for God sakes, I'm so not having this conversation!" Eddie rubbed a hand over his brow, not believing what she had just said and annoyed at how very pleased with herself she looked.

Donald decided it was time to put an end to the banter between the two of them. "I suggest you continue this topic after we crossover. We should prepare to go immediately." Then he turned to Etta. To ensure the change in topic lasted, he asked "How are you feeling Henrietta? Do you think you are capable of crossing us over?"

"I'm fine Donald, don't worry. My grandfather gave me some kind of 'energy boost' shot to help me. He says that soldiers and sportsmen in his universe use it to help them through very demanding physical situations, he said it should be good for a couple of hours, so I'm good to go. The other side has a welcoming party waiting for us whenever we're ready."

"Very well. Then we should go. First you will crossover with Astrid and Eddie. I will be last, with the remainder of the luggage".

Etta nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

"There is also something I need you to do on the other side before you return to get me." Etta frowned at him. "Just a little experiment," Donald said, answering her unspoken question with a cryptic smile.

The group gathered their equipment and filed outside to their agreed departure point which Etta would use to crossover.

* * *

On the Other Side, a Fringe team lead by Lincoln Lee and Olivia Dunham remained ready, in expectation of the arrival of their guests. Next to them, the former Secretary of Defence, awaited in silence.

In a blink of an eye Etta materialized, along with Astrid and Eddie.

Etta introduced Eddie to everyone, shaking hands with each of them. She noticed Olivia's reaction to him. Her aunt Rachel had always said that he bore a strong resemblance to their maternal grandfather.

Eddie was the nephew this world's Olivia never got to have. He was also a living reminder of both her lost sister and long dead father.

Astrid exchanged compliments with the Fringe team and with Walternate, but it was Lincoln that she hugged fondly.

Walternate approached Etta after the pleasantries and asked quietly, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok don't worry. The shot you gave me really helped a lot. I'm going to get Donald and the rest of our kit."

"Take it easy dear. You can always rest for a few hours. I'm sure your friend wouldn't mind," he said with concern.

"I'm fine really," she reassured her grandfather. "Actually Donald asked if you guys might have a breach detector on hand."

"Why so?"

"He wants to test something. He believes I should be able to crossover in a way your sensors won't detect."

"Really? My, my, that would be truly remarkable. Give me a minute dear, I think we can arrange for one to be set up." He set off towards Olivia to make the arrangements. Within a few minutes a portable console was brought from the van and calibrated, ready to test Donald's theory.

"It's ready Sir." The agent behind the console informed Walter.

"See you guys in a sec," Etta waved and walked back towards the crossover zone once more.

Again, she disappeared mid-step, bending the fabric of realities and walking smoothly between universes.

Waiting nearby, with three backpacks and a duffel bag that made up the rest of their luggage, was Donald. "You can rest if you wish, we can stay here a while longer."

"I'm ok Donald," Etta huffed frustrated. "Everyone keeps treating me like I'm made of glass."

"The feat you are preforming is very demanding on your body. It is natural that your friends show concern about your wellbeing. Besides I would like you to be rested and relaxed for your next jump. It is very important that you fully dominate the task of bending realities without causing any disturbance whatsoever. It may prove very useful once you travel into the past."

"I promise that if I feel any signs of exhaustion, I'll tell you, ok?"

"Very well then, I presume you are ready to proceed?"

"Yup," she confirmed already hefting two of the backpacks onto her shoulders and heading back towards the crossing area. Donald followed with the rest of the bags.

They stood face to face and Etta took Donald's hand.

"Remember what I taught you. Do not push all the way to get over there. Let yourself drift once you feel the pull of the other universe. Concentrate and push gently until you feel this reality slipping away, then let yourself go. Remember also, that you are carrying me and luggage along with you. You will need to push a bit harder to gain momentum. But you have to stop immediately when you feel the pull of the other universe."

Etta nodded with a smile, "Ok, Donald, I'll do my best."

"Good. Take us there Henrietta."

Etta closed her eyes in concentration. She felt reality bending at her will as she pushed towards the other universe. As soon as she felt the pull, like Donald had instructed her, she stopped pushing and let herself drift. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and found Donald, he was giving her a proud smile. She heard voices behind her.

"Sun of a...! There's nothing! It didn't detect a single thing, Sir!"

"Are you sure Agent?" Etta turned her head when she heard her grandfather's voice.

"Positive Sir!"

"Remarkable!" Walternate said amazed by his granddaughter and the power of her ability.

"I believe you have succeeded Henrietta," Donald said still smiling and giving a congratulatory pat on her shoulder.

Lincoln was the first to approach. He held out his hand to the older man, "You must be Donald."

"That is correct," he said accepting the shake.

"I believe we met back when I was with the Fringe Division in my home world, when you were still..."

"...an Observer," Donald completed. "Yes we did."

"Well it's nice to see you again. Welcome to this Universe."

"Thank you. We appreciate what you are doing for us."

"Forget it, it's the least we can do."

Etta made the remaining introductions and soon afterward the group proceeded towards the vehicles waiting to transport them to Boston, where Walter had arranged accommodation for them.

* * *

Elizabeth had busied herself with the task of readying the Bishops old house near the Harvard campus. She was coordinating a small cleaning crew, ensuring the place was ready for the arrival of its new inhabitants. Sooner than she expected she heard the rumble of engines outside and went out to greet them.

Three vehicles arrived carrying the awaited guests, along with Olivia, Lincoln and her husband. Once the group had alighted from the convoy, Etta introduced her grandmother to the other members of her party.

"Welcome. Please, come inside. Everything is almost ready for you," Elizabeth said showing them in.

Astrid was the first to recognize where they were. "On our side this was the house your father lived in for a few months after he appeared at Raiden Lake, before he got back with your mother. It belonged to Walter." She said turning to Etta.

"That's right, I helped your father settle in at that house when he moved in," Lincoln added. "All these years I've been here and I never thought this house would exist over here too," he smiled taking a look around the house.

Walternate took a few steps inside, taking in the old house once more. "Like many other things, I guess this is something else Walter from your side and I had in common. This house was allocated to me when I worked here at Harvard back in the 70s. I end up buying it. Later we moved to New York while I perused my political career, after that we only used this place when we visited Boston. We thought about moving here when I retired, but Elizabeth already had her heart set on the house in Cambridge. After putting up with me for so many years, it was the least I could do for her. Still, I didn't had the heart to sell this place. Too many memories."

Elizabeth approached her husband and slipped her hand into his, giving a gentle squeeze. "And I'm glad we didn't sell." She turned to their guests, "There is space enough for the four of you and you can stay here for as long as you want. Although there are only three rooms upstairs, one is big enough for two to share. I had the king-size bed removed and we've had two single beds brought in. But off course Etta, if you'd rather, you would be welcome to stay with us."

"No it's fine thank you, Astrid and I can share the twin bedroom. Believe me that this is a five star hotel compared to what we are used to."

"You'll have another advantage in staying here," Walter interjected. "It's close to my old lab at Harvard. I have arranged for it to be available for us to work there. I guessed you would enjoy that, since it's almost identical to the one your Fringe division used in your universe."

"That is excellent, thank you Dr. Bishop," Donald replied, inclining is head slightly as a thank you gesture.

They were interrupted when a Fringe Division Agent entered the house. He immediately approached Olivia to whom he handed a small packet. "I have some more good news," she informed them, moving towards the living room table where she opened the package, scattering its contents.

Inside were four envelopes, each with the name of one of the four new arrivals written on them. She picked up the envelopes and handed them out. They took the envelopes and opened them, surprised by the contents. Olivia, Lincoln and Walternate exchange amused looks and Olivia explained the contents of the packs, "You all have a comm device. We've already shown Etta how they work, so she will explain their functions to you later. The card is a fully legal Show Me card, you'll need it in order to use public transport and also to gain access to public buildings and other facilities. It also gives you access to a bank account. Fringe division has opened one for each of the four of you. During your stay you'll have access to all the funds you will need. Your show me card is also necessary for you to be able to drive, there are two vehicles parked outside which have been assigned for your use."

"This is too much," Astrid said quietly, overwhelmed by their hosts generosity.

Eddie was also taken aback by everything that had been so willingly offered to them. "We can't accept all of this. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, because I am really grateful for all that you guys are doing for us, but it's like Astrid said," he shook his head. "It's too much."

"Nonsense young man," Walternate waved his hand, dismissing Astrid and Eddie's concerns. "My wife and I are a wealthy old couple. Without Etta we have no living heirs and we never expected - but are so grateful - to have her in our lives. She is family."

"This is the least we can do for our granddaughter, her family and friends. Think of it as a start-up fund for your new lives over here. Besides, this won't make much difference to an old fool's fortune."

Etta walked towards the old man and hugged him, "Thank you grandpa," she smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. Walternate grasped and patted her hand, emoted by the young woman's gesture.

She felt truly grateful for everything that had been done for her friends and herself, although she knew she wouldn't stay around for long to enjoy the spoils of this offered 'new life'. Nevertheless it felt good knowing she would leave Eddie and Astrid behind in a safe environment surrounded by people that cared about them, far removed from their dystopian world already doomed. If the plan failed, they would remain safe.

Next she approached Elizabeth and gave her a warm hug. "You too grandma," she planted a soft kiss on her face. The old woman smiled, kissing her back and returning the hug.

Lastly, Etta turned to Olivia and Lincoln smiling at them, "You guys have been so kind to me since I got here. When I first crossed over I was hoping you could help. But all this... I don't even know how to thank you enough."

Olivia grabbed both of Etta's hands, squeezing lightly. "You don't have to thank us for anything. Your side helped us a lot in the past. Thanks to the help we received, we got many things back that we thought had been lost for good. Your parents were instrumental in that process, Etta. This is the least we can do for you."

Etta nodded, unable to say anything else.

One of the members of the cleaning crew approached Elizabeth, announcing that they had concluded their work. She thanked them as they left.

"Well, everything's ready," she said with a smile. "We should go now and let you settle in. But first I would like to invite the four of you to dinner at our house this evening."

Walternate joined his wife, "Yes we would love to have you there. It will also give us the opportunity to further discuss what I have already talked about with Etta."

"That is most kind of you. We will be honoured to accept," Donald replied, shaking Walter's hand as both a thank you and a good-bye gesture.

Lincoln and Olivia also said their good-byes, "I'm afraid we have to go too. We have to be in New York before this evening. But first, we have to drop by to see our son, Trevor, he's studying at MIT." Lincoln explained.

"He's very excited to meet the visitors from the other side, especially you Etta, and Eddie. So expect him to visit some time during next few days," Olivia added.

"It will be a pleasure meeting him," Etta replied with a smile.

The group accompanied their hosts outside and said their final goodbyes. Once all the vehicles departed, they wandered back inside and for the first time since their arrival they were left on their own.

Donald and Eddie took charge of the luggage leaving Astrid to roam the house. She smiled as many fond memories flushed through her brain.

She started giggling softly when she reached a certain area of the living room, not far from the kitchen. "What it is it?" Etta asked, made curious by the former Agent's demeanour.

Astrid shook her head still amused by the memory that had surfaced in her mind. "Just remembering," she said with a wistful smile. "In the original timeline, your father and Walter lived in a hotel room for a whole year after joining the Fringe Division, until they moved to this very same house. It didn't belong to Walter back then, the FBI rented the house for them."

"That's a funny coincidence," Etta said wrinkling her nose.

"Yes it is, but that was not why I was giggling. You see, your grandfather had his bed in this very spot, right here where I'm standing."

"What? Right here in the living room?"

"That's right. According to him it was the best spot in the house, near the fireplace and only thirteen paces from the kitchen. Because, 'You never know when one cloud get hungry in the middle of the night'. Which according to your father, happened a lot with Walter."

"And my father was ok with that?" Etta queried, frowning.

Astrid smiled softly, "Peter learned to deal with Walter's eccentricities. It was one of those things that you were just better off letting him have his way and everybody was happy with it. Believe me, after spending a whole year with Walter in the same hotel room, Peter didn't mind at all sleeping one floor away from him." Etta chuckled at the thought.

Astrid slipped into silence for a few seconds. She had a vacant look in her eyes, her mind someplace else, a world, a lifetime away. Then her face brightened, having realized something. "It just struck me," she said turning to Etta, "if everything goes according to plan, in a few weeks, probably even days, you will be in right here, on the other side. Only about twenty five years in the past with Walter and Peter."

She took a few steps, turning and taking the house in. She looked at Etta with a sad wistful smile, "God, I would give anything to be there with you."

Etta approached the former Fringe Agent and smiled at her, "But, in a way you will."

Astrid frowned, until she realized what Etta meant. Her smile became brighter "I guess you're right, I will be."

* * *

**A/N And again, big thanks go to Crystalline Green. It wouldn't be the same without you mate!**


	11. Trevor

**A/N This chapter is a bonus. A gift to the amazing Crystalline Green. Enjoy it mate!**

** See the end for further notes.**

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Trevor.**

Astrid smiled watching Donald muttering something to himself as he fiddled with the interface Walternate had provided. "If I didn't know you better, I would swear that you just cursed."

Donald took his eyes from the interface and looked at Astrid. "I have seen people doing it when they do not achieve the expected results. Walter used to do it frequently. I thought I would try it myself."

"Did it help?" Astrid raised an eyebrow amused.

"Strangely enough, it seemed to alleviate my frustration at the lack of results I am getting from this interface."

Astrid chuckled as she walked back to her bench, on the way she gave a small tap on her friend's shoulder. "Don't worry Donald, you'll get that thing working in no time." Donald smiled back at the former FBI Agent and went back to his task.

The lab was quiet, Etta and Eddie had gone to New York with Walternate, so Astrid had a little time to kill. She browsed her holographic terminal, searching though the information directory, acquainting herself with the internet of this side to entertain herself. She was trying to pick up differences between both worlds and at the same time she was getting to know her new home better.

The creek of the door gained her attention. She was surprised to see the head of a young man peeking through the gap. She stood up and asked, "Can I help you?" already prepared to send another curious student on his way.

"Is this the lab of the former Secretary of Defence, Dr. Walter Bishop?" he asked.

Astrid frowned at the boy's question. "Who wants to know?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry." The young man stepped inside smiling shyly. He looked a bit dorky to Astrid, perhaps nineteen or twenty, filling out but not quite there yet, as if he'd grown a lot recently and his weight had yet to catch up to his height. His hair was mousey brown and precisely styled, rather than the scruff she usually would have associated with someone his age. She would have definitely called him a bit of a geek, although in an endearing kind of way.

"My name is Trevor Dunham-Lee. I'm the son of your former colleague, Lincoln Lee. If I'm correct you're Agent Farnsworth, from my father's Universe, aren't you?" The young man searched his coat for something that apparently was nowhere to be found while Astrid watched amused. "I could have sworn that I put my showme card in my coat pocket."

Astrid chuckled, "It's ok. I believe you Trevor. As you correctly guessed, I'm Astrid, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said giving her hand to Trevor.

"The pleasure his mine," he took her hand and shook.

"And over there is Donald," Astrid turned and indicated the former Observer with a sweep of her hand. Donald raised his head and gave Trevor a small wave of salutation without saying a word, before he went back to his work. The young man hardly had chance to wave back.

"Don't mind him, he gets like that when he is absorbed in his work," Astrid explained giving Trevor an apologetic shrug.

"Oh it's ok, I get it. I'm like that too when I'm focused on something." He kept eyeing Astrid without saying a word. She smiled wider, amused by the young man's little quirks.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be staring. It's just... it is truly remarkable. You're the exact copy of our Agent Farnsworth. I've heard the stories about the Other Side since I was a kid, but seeing someone from there, in the flesh... wow. I mean, it's not that I've never seen someone from your world before, since my father is from there, but he's been here since before I was born so he kinda doesn't count."

Trevor's rambling made Astrid chuckle. "I know it's weird and exciting at the same time. It was the same for me back when the Bridge was open, especially when I first met my counterpart," she explained.

"That, well, I can't imagine how it would be, since I know for sure that I don't have a counterpart on your side."

"That's right, you're the same as Etta. Parents from different Universes."

Trevor gave a slight nod. "Yeah I guess I am. Speaking of which, I actually came here hoping to meet her and her cousin."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Trevor," Astrid gave an apologetic smile, "but they went to New York with Etta's grandfather. They're supposed to be back this afternoon, you can wait here if you want. I'm sure it won't be long before they arrive."

Trevor's shoulders slumped, clearly disappointed. "Thank you but I can't, I have a class in an hour. That's really a shame, I was looking forward to meeting them. I had some time off this afternoon so I came here hoping to meet with them."

Astrid gave Trevor's arm a light pat. "You'll have other opportunities to meet them."

"I cannot believe that you gave my comm's number to that girl!" Astrid and Trevor both looked towards the door of the lab, from where the agitated voice had come.

"Of course I did, she was so in to you. She kept staring right at you. Dumb-ass! But since you weren't doing anything about it, I had to take matters into my own hands."

The door swung open, pushed by Eddie. The look on his face matched the tone of his voice. "Maybe I wasn't interested in her!"

Etta followed him in and they stood face to face at the entrance of the lab, oblivious to Astrid and Trevor who stood watching their interaction like spectators at a tennis match.

"What? A hottie like that? I'm not gay and even I would have done her."

"Oh for God sakes Etta! Could you please stop trying to get me laid!"

"If you prefer men, you know I could help you pick up guys, I don't mind. I'll be your wing-woman." Etta said with a wide grin.

Eddie stared at his cousin, his mouth agape. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a comment."

"Ahem," Astrid cleared her throat loudly to get the cousins attention. Both heads swivelled towards Astrid and stared at her and in turn, Trevor.

"We have a guest," Astrid said amused.

Trevor gave a small wave. "Hi… I'm Trevor," he said in a low and slightly embarrassed voice.

Etta gave the young man a wide bright smile and approached him. "Trevor Dunham-Lee, right?" she said offering a handshake.

"Yes, that's me," Trevor returned the handshake with a smile, his face slightly flushed.

"So I guess that you're pretty much the closest thing I'll ever have to a half-brother?" Etta said arching her eyebrows playfully, amused by the young man's shyness.

Trevor hesitated a moment, allowing the statement to run though his head and sorting through the strangeness of it. "I guess I am."

Eddie approached and also shook with Trevor. "Eddie Blake"

"Nice to meet you Eddie."

"He's our gay cousin," Etta said smirking and giving a sidelong look at Eddie.

Trevor lowered his head embarrassed while Eddie glared at his cousin shooting daggers.

"Etta, don't you think that's enough?" Astrid said in a slightly reproachful tone.

"Ok, I was only joking," Etta said with a tut and a roll of her eyes. She turned to Trevor deciding to change the subject. "Listen, I'm starving. We barely ate lunch in New York. What do you say to grabbing something at the coffee shop here on campus?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Come on Eddie, I know you're starving too. I promise, I won't try to hook you up with any girls." Etta grabbed her cousin's arm and bit her lower lip.

Eddie huffed and shook his head. "Sure, let's go."

"Aunt Astrid, don't you wanna come too?"

"No, thank you Etta, I'm fine. You kids go, you must have a lot to talk about."

Eddie approached the workbench where Donald was still working, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around him. "Donald do you want to join us?"

The former Observer raised his head and looked at Eddie, looking a little confused, his thoughts evidently still on his work. "No, thank you Edward. You go ahead and enjoy your meal." He turned his attention immediately back to the gadget he was working on.

Eddie smiled and gave a Donald a gentle pat on the back.

* * *

The three youngsters made their way through the busy campus, with Etta and Trevor engaging easily in lively conversation.

Trevor also took on the role of unofficial tour guide of the campus as they walked. "That section over there was released from amber only six years ago," Trevor pointed to a group of buildings on the far side of the campus. "It was the last ambered section here in the Boston area."

Etta and Eddie looked in the direction Trevor was pointing. "I was here with my parents that day. My mother makes a point to be at every de-ambering ceremony she can get to." Trevor gave a wry smile to the cousins. "She says that it helps her to deal with the fact that she was on one of the teams that was at the forefront of the ambering process, back in the days of the vortices. Before the forming of the Bridge, many lives were lost and many more were trapped in the amber when the containment protocols were actioned."

Etta and Eddie exchanged looks. Both remained silent.

"But that was a long time ago. I wasn't even born. Things are so much better now." Trevor gave the two cousins a smile.

They entered the coffee shop and approached the counter, each picked their beverage and food of choice. It was around three in the afternoon and the coffee shop was bustling with students and faculty members. After waiting a few minutes, they managed to get a booth by the window.

Eddie looked around, watching people crowded around the tables, cheerfully engaging in conversation with each other. The atmosphere of the coffee shop was full of life, so bewilderingly different from their Observer controlled society.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Etta asked noticing her cousin's introspective mood.

"We've been here for four days and I still feel... exhilarated and sad at the same time, watching all these people going about their lives, not a care in the world. It's just so different from our world."

"What is it like?" Trevor asked. Eddie gazed into space, pondering where to begin. "I mean, if you don't want to talk about it I completely understand." Trevor said giving Eddie an apologetic smile and a way out of talking about his home Universe.

"No, Trevor, it's ok," Eddie waved his hand, dismissing Trevor's concerns. "It's just, something like this," Eddie said gesturing to the food and beverages on offer in front of them, "is only available to a privileged few, those who side with the Observers."

"So, what do you guys get to eat?" Trevor asked eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

"Food supplements mostly, like egg sticks, meat or fish tablets, vitamin and protein pills and so on."

"Boy, I can't imagine living like that." Trevor grimaced.

"You get used to it," Etta said with a shrug. "But the food is the least of it. Our society is controlled by the Observers. There is no government, the educational system is reduced only to a few years in school and they only teach the basics. Healthcare is practically non-existent. People just pretty much struggle to stay alive only so they can live another day. Hope is in very short supply."

Trevor was disturbed by Etta's account "That's horrible," he shook his head, "living without hope, without goals."

"Basically it is." Eddie said savouring a sip of his coffee.

"But there's the Resistance, right? My dad told me you were part of it."

"Yes," Eddie put down his cup before he elaborated. "But there's only so much the Resistance can do. Fighting the Observers has basically been a fool's errand. They control all the resources and they're so much more advanced than we are and to top it all, they can travel through time and dimensions. They can predict the possible outcomes an event can cause and use that knowledge to manipulate our timeline to suit their needs."

"You mean that they can foresee the future?" Trevor frowned, intrigued by Eddie's revelation.

"Not exactly. It's... complicated," Eddie tried to think how best to explain. "You see, they sacrificed human emotions in order to achieve a higher intellect. They developed technology and each of them has a device implanted in their brain, which gives them the ability to both travel through time and grants them enhanced capacity to solve very complex mathematical problems, connecting strings of probability, making calculations for each circumstance and every eventuality. That way they can evaluate the impact of a certain event occurring in the present, and the resultant effect it will have in the future."

"Like a very powerful computer that can analyse weather patterns and predict an accurate forecast months ahead?" Trevor prompted, fully engrossed in Eddie's explanation.

"Exactly."

"Damn!" Trevor leaned back in his seat, impressed by Eddie's account about the Observers, "If they are that powerful… surely it's impossible to defeat them."

"Most of the people back home think like that," Etta said, joining the conversation. "But for us in the Resistance, it's unthinkable to just passively accept it and watch as our world is destroyed. At least we are doing something. We refuse to give up. We'd rather die fighting for our future, than to just live a hopeless life under Observer order."

Trevor nodded, understanding Etta's position. "I know you guys have some kind of plan and that's one of the reasons why you are here. My parents didn't give me any details and I completely understand, but if you need any help I would be very happy to assist you."

"Thanks, that's very kind of you." Etta smiled at the young man's enthusiasm.

"I have a PhD in advanced electronics and I'm currently finishing a Master's Degree in nanotechnology, so feel free to call upon my expertise in those fields if you should need to," Trevor insisted.

"If we need anything we'll be sure to call, thank you," Eddie replied politely, not wanting to dismiss Trevor immediately. He had no wish to hurt the young man's feelings.

"Let's talk about something more cheerful," Etta said deciding on changing the subject. "We have something unique in common," she said raising an eyebrow. "We're the only two children of parents from different universes."

"Yes, so we are." Trevor nodded enthusiastically.

"When did you find out?" Etta asked.

"Honestly, I don't remember," Trevor replied shrugging. "My parents never hid the truth from me. I've known since I was a child. What about you?"

"I only found out a few months ago, Aunt Astrid and Donald where the ones who told me. Eddie and I didn't even knew about your Universe, let alone that my dad came from here."

"Boy, that must have been a shock to you," Trevor said raising his eyebrows.

"Believe me, it was a day full of them." Etta exchanged glances with Eddie and they smiled at each other remembering the day they had met Donald. "But how was it for you, growing up knowing that? Did everyone know? Did the other kids give you a hard time at school because of it?"

"It wasn't exactly a secret. Friends of our family and my parent's colleagues, they all know where my father is from. But I don't usually go around telling people about it. Honestly I barely think about it, it's just something that doesn't really bother me. I never felt I was being discriminated against or harassed because of it. Not at school or anywhere else, not that I remember," he finished with a shrug.

"That's great, I'm happy you managed to deal with it so well." Etta gave a small smile.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eddie asked eyeing Trevor cautiously.

"Sure, anything."

"Your grandma is still alive, isn't she?"

"Yeah, Grandma Marilyn!" Trevor gave a bright smile. "She's seventy four you know, but still as healthy as an ox. She's going to love meeting you both. Especially you Eddie, since my aunt Rachel died giving birth. She'll love meeting a son of Rachel."

"I'm looking forward to that," Eddie returned the smile. The idea of meeting the grandmother he never knew, and getting the chance to know made him nervous, but also excited. "Did you ever meet her on your side?" Trevor asked.

"No," Eddie shook his head solemnly, "she died when my mom was a teenager. Neither of us ever got to know her. Not even my sister Ella and she was older than me."

"My dad told me what happened to your sister, I'm very sorry."

"It's ok, it happened a few years back. We've lost many good people because of the Observers, Ella was just one more to add to the list."

Trevor noticed then how heavily the sadness weighed upon Eddie, even though he tried not to make a big deal of it. Trevor decided not to press on the issue. "What about your mom?" he asked changing tack.

"She's in Portland with dad. The last time we spoke they were fine, considering the circumstances."

"Didn't you think to bring them over to our side too?"

"Yes I did, but we had to leave quickly and coming here was totally unexpected. We weren't planning this." Eddie said gesturing to their surroundings with his hand.

Etta elaborated, "A very good friend of ours died last week. He sacrificed himself in order not to compromise our plan. But we don't know if the Observers managed to get anything from him. That's why we had to leave in a hurry. Due to my ability to cross over to your side, Donald had the idea of us hiding over here while we prepare. The Observers will not expect this. They don't know about my ability."

"That's why you don't want to risk crossing over to get your aunt? You're afraid the Observers may find out and capture you?"

"That's one of the reasons, but believe me, it's something that has been nagging me. After the invasion, my parents sent me to live with Aunt Rachel to protect me. It was too dangerous for me to be around while they were leading the resistance. So, Aunt Rachel raised me since I was three years old. I really wish I could go to Portland to bring them over here. But it's dangerous and we can't risk compromising the plan, as much as it pains me to leave her there."

Trevor nodded sympathetically. "You have to think positive. If your plan succeeds, won't that mean you'll get rid of the Observers?"

"We hope so."

"So focus on that. That way you will be also helping your aunt."

Etta gave a small nod and smiled. "I will, thanks Trevor."

"I have to go, I have a class in 20 minutes." Trevor picked up his tray, preparing to leave, "It was really nice getting to know you both."

"It was good getting to know you too Trevor." Eddie said following Trevor's lead.

"What about we get together this weekend?" Trevor suggested. "We could go out for drinks. I honestly don't get out much, I'm usually more focused on my studies. Mom is always nagging me that I should get out more and meet people," Trevor rolled his eyes and smiled. "I bet you guys never went to a bar or even to a club."

"That's an amazing idea," Etta said, standing from the booth to join her cousin and Trevor. "Maybe Eddie will finally meet someone to his liking," she clapped Eddie on the back.

"For God sakes Etta, don't start again." Eddie huffed in frustration.

"I'm just looking out for you, Couz." She gave him a wide grin.

"Or maybe you'll find a guy to your liking... or a girl," Eddie retorted.

"Oh!" Etta exaggerated an open mouthed fake-shocked expression, but it quickly changed to a mischievous smile. "Maybe I'll find both a guy _and_ a girl".

Trevor turned to his companions, "Are you guys like this all the time?"

Etta chuckled, "Only when we're not fighting Loyalists or Observers."

"You're joking right? You're even more annoying when you're fighting." Eddie said with a crooked grin.

"I am not!" She protested gently smacking Eddie's arm.

"Yes you are. I've seen Loyalists surrender just to not have to put up with your mouth."

Etta glared with narrowed eyes. "Donald was wrong after all," she said after a while.

"How?" Eddie asked raising his chin, shining Etta on despite himself.

"Crossing over with me can cause side effects. You're totally delusional."

Trevor smiled following behind the bickering pair. It was going to be an interesting night out.

* * *

**A/N I had stated in my profile that chapter 11 was going to be the last of part one of the story.**

**Due to this bonus chapter, the final one will be the 12th.**

**It is already written and betaed, only some minor final adjustments to be done.**

**I hope I will be able to publish it tomorrow or tuesday.**

**Thanks to everyone still reading/following/commenting this story.**


	12. An Interesting Journey

**A/N As promised the final chapter of Part 1**

* * *

**Chapter 12 – An Interesting Journey.**

It was the middle of the afternoon when Walternate arrived from New York.

During the last two weeks, since Etta and her group had arrived, he had made plenty of trips to the Big Apple. The town car which had brought him from the airfield in Cambridge, parked directly in front of the Kresge Building. As he exited, he thanked the driver and set off towards his lab.

He passed by the students and faculty members, all of them oblivious to what was being prepared in the basement of the old building. His mind drifted towards the events of the previous weeks.

From out of nowhere, a granddaughter had appeared in his life and it amazed him how she managed to become such an important part of it so quickly. Her smile alone seemed to cheer him up in a way he couldn't remember feeling for so long. He knew Elizabeth felt the same way. It broke his heart to know that soon they would have to say goodbye to her.

He prayed that the other version of him, the one from the erased timeline, would be wise enough to recognise, even enjoy and embrace the presence of such an extraordinary young woman in his life, if he had the opportunity. Although he had a feeling that wasn't going to happen.

He still remembered his first meeting with Peter, how cautious and guarded he was towards him. The anger barely contained behind his eyes when they first met, which he could not fail to notice as that icy gaze settled upon him.

Peter never told him what had happened in the previous timeline that made him so wary of him, his biological father. But Walternate now knew the full extended of what that other version of himself had done, both to Peter and Olivia in the erased timeline. Donald and Astrid had told him after much insistence. It shamed him to think that a small difference in his past could turn him into such a vengeful, bitter man.

And now his granddaughter was on her way to confront that other Walter, whom he wished had never existed. The least he could do was help her anyway he could to prepare for what she would likely meet during such a confrontation. Deep down he hoped that the presence of Etta in that timeline could be the catalyst for a change in that version of him, that it might make him a better person. One could always dream.

When Walter finally reached the lab, he found everyone gathered around a workbench, focused on what Donald was explaining. Etta was the first to notice him. She smiled with that wide, bright smile of hers. The one he had become so fond of so very quickly.

She approached him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Hi grandpa, how was your trip?" she asked as she interlaced her arm with his, and together they walked towards the group.

Walternate patted her hand affectionately and smiled at her. "Marvellous, Henrietta. I got everything I wanted."

He saluted the rest of the group as they approached the workbench. He lifted his briefcase and settled it on the surface, then released the catches to open it. Inside, a series of magnetic cards, drivers licenses, show me cards and a few devices filled the briefcase.

"What's all this?" Etta frowned looking at the myriad of items before her.

Astrid picked up one of the cards, "This is a credit card, a Visa to be more precise. I haven't seen one of these in ages!" she flipped the card "'Anne White'?" she frowned, looking at the former secretary.

"It's a packet of credentials we created for one of our agents, whom infiltrated your universe before the bridge was open, of course this was when we still thought you were the enemy." He gave an apologetic smile. "Not one of my finest moments, I have to recognize."

Walternate picked up another card and resumed his explanation, "They were established by our operatives in your home universe. We anticipate that they may well be valid in the erased timeline at the point you are traveling to, since many things were similar between both timelines. Most of these are genuine, such as the bank account and driver's licence, the rest will stand up to the closest scrutiny I assure you." He nodded to his granddaughter and smiled. "You'll take these with you dear, they may prove to be useful. There are several different aliases, each with a full set of identification and bank account supported by them. This should increase the chances of funds being available to you."

"Thank you, this is great," Etta smiled picking up one of the cards, looking at it with keen curiosity.

Walternate smiled back at his granddaughter, then he picked up one of the showmes. "You also have showme cards from our side, which I believe may come of great help to you my dear, in case you will need to crossover to this universe once more." He gave the card to Etta, who took it and examined it carefully. Walternate continued.

"Now these are a bit more tricky, since on our side showme cards were validated by authority agents who all carried handheld verification devices. They are also used as a gateway to public transportation, and for accessing information terminals similar to your old ATM machines. They are all connected to a network of servers that contain a database with the ID of all our citizens. Yours will not be in that system. But we think we have come up with a solution to that problem."

He picked up a small electronic device, a little thicker than a credit card. "In order for these show me cards to work, you will have to use this device. Each information terminal has an interface port at the back, beneath a hidden panel. You will have to open the panel to connect the device to the port via this cable." He held up the interface for Etta to see.

"The device will automatically upload each ID's information to the central servers. You will see a progress bar on the device that shows the status of the upload. It should take only about thirty to forty seconds."

He put down the device and picked up a couple more of the showme cards. "There are several IDs which have been programed into the device that match the showme cards that I have brought, they are all programmed with your photo. They can each be used as payment method, up to a limit of ten thousand dollars."

"Grandpa, I don't know what to say..." Etta said flabbergasted by the array of cards before her and all that they represented.

"Wow, we sure could use someone with your talents in the resistance," Eddie said, impressed by the resourcefulness of the former secretary.

"Thank you for the compliment Eddie," Walternate smiled at the young man, amused by his remark. "Now, if you wish you can add to the IDs that are already programmed, in case you need to bring someone else along with you to our universe. You just have to connect the device to a computer of your universe with this second cable. The cable acts like a converter and will connect the device to the USB ports that the computers on your side were equipped with. I embedded a file on the device, which you will be able to access once you connect it to a computer, it will allow you to edit or create customized new IDs. Instructions are included within the software. If you have any difficulty, I'm sure Peter or your Agent Farnsworth from that timeline will be able to help you." Walternate turned to Astrid looking for confirmation of what he had surmised.

Astrid nodded and said with a smile, "I don't think that will be a problem for either of us. In fact I think we'll get a kick out of tinkering with it, especially knowing where they came from, and what they'll be used for."

"Excellent!" Walternate projected the word with enthusiasm and a grin to match. "This one," he held up one last showme card. "Do not change Etta." he said addressing her once more, assuming a more serious demeanour, his eyes locked on to hers. "This will give you access to restricted areas, even to the DoD complex on Liberty Island. Use it only if circumstances demand it, and even then only if absolutely necessary my dear. Keep it safe at all times."

She nodded and replied with solemnity, "I will."

"Off course I'm assuming that the system will support this on our side in the erased timeline. I have given it much thought and I think it will, but I cannot guarantee it with one hundred percent certainty. In all honesty, I hope you will never have the need to use them; any of them."

Donald looked at the contents of the briefcase. "This is quite impressive Dr. Bishop."

"Thank you," Walternate smiled. He reached into one of his coat pockets, taking out a glass vial containing a tissue sample. "I also brought this for you Donald," he said handing it over.

The former Observer tilted his head, the way he used to do when something caught his attention.

"The sample you had requested," Walter elaborated.

"Excellent Dr. Bishop," Donald said accepting the vial. He walked towards a piece of the top of the line analysis equipment so abundant in the lab. He inserted the vial in the machine and before he pressed the start button to begin the analysis, he turned to Walternate. "I do not know how to thank you for this."

"You don't need to thank me my friend, I just hope you find the answers you're looking for."

Donald pressed a few buttons and waited.

Eddie joined Walternate. "What is that Dr. Bishop?"

"That is a tissue sample from one of the beings that David Robert Jones and William Bell created. Intended for the purpose of populating the new universe, which would have been created following the destruction of both ours," the former secretary explained.

"Yeah, I remember Astrid and Donald telling us about that. It was after my uncle Peter was restored in this timeline, wasn't it?"

"Precisely, young man."

"The Porcupine man," Astrid snorted with distaste. "You still have a sample?"

"Yes, Agent Farnsworth, everything that your side shared with us when the bridge was open, has been kept in storage at Fringe Division Headquarters in New York. Agent Dunham was kind enough to get me a sample."

"But why do you want a sample of the Porcupine man, or whatever that is?" Etta asked Donald, grimacing.

The analysis machine beeped, displaying the results on the touch screen. "Because I wanted to test a theory of mine," Donald answered without taking his eyes from the results, scrolling through the information with a swipe of his finger. "Here it is!" he said in excitement.

Everyone gathered around him. "What did you find?" Eddie was the first to ask.

"Right here," Donald zoomed in on area of the screen, showing a magnified section of a DNA sequence, where overlapping colour-coded, zigzag peaks spiked across the screen. "This is the exact same mutation I found on the Observer from Virginia when I examined his DNA at the morgue."

Etta frowned as she studied the display. "How is that possible?" she questioned. "I clearly remember you guys telling me that these beings, the ones that Bell and Jones created, looked like beasts and that they were all destroyed when Bell's plan was thwarted by my parents." She crossed her arms over her chest and leant back on the workbench and eyed Donald. "So how could that mutation be present in the Observers? After all, aren't they humans from the future? Besides, physically they look like a 'normal' person; apart from the complete lack of hair and almost grey complexion. They're nothing like the beings you described."

"You are correct Henrietta," Donald replied. "But what you do not know is that in order to develop the drug, Dr. Bell conducted human trials. He tested drugs and procedures intended to modify the genome on his subjects, most of whom died as a result of the process before the drug was perfected. But some subjects survived the trials without turning. Now I believe that they became carriers of the mutated DNA which was in turn been transmitted to their descendants, spreading it to the general population within a few generations..."

"...which later on was passed along to the future Observers." Eddie completed Donald's explanation.

"Precisely, Edward"

"Son of a bitch. God damn you William Bell!" Astrid cursed. No matter what, it all seemed to come back to Bell and his activities. The things he had done to Olivia in both timelines had always made Astrid cringe. Not only did he conduct the cortexiphan trials in the original timeline, but he also forcibly used her body as a recipient for his consciousness. Then in the reset timeline he dosed her with a massive course of cortexiphan in order to achieve his lunatic dream of creating a new universe. Astrid made a mental note to talk to Donald and Etta about Bell and his soul magnets before the young Bishop travelled to the past. Since Etta would be arriving months before Bell took over Olivia's body, there could be a way to prevent it from happening.

"This is the reason the mutation did not exist in the original timeline," Donald concluded.

"Because William Bell died helping Walter and Peter crossing back to our Universe," Astrid said, completing Donald's train of thought.

"That is correct. In that timeline he never had the chance nor even the intent to create those beings or a new Universe." Donald turned away from the tissue analysis and returned to the workbench he'd been working at previously. The sombre look on his face didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

"So, how are things going here?" Walternate asked, trying to lighten Donald's mood. "When we spoke yesterday you said you were close to finally completing the modifications to my interface. Are you now able to program the machine as you require?"

"Yes, Dr. Bishop, I was indeed successful. Last night I finally completed the programing of the machine. When you arrived I was explaining to Henrietta how she should integrate the parts she will take with her, into the wave sync machine."

"That is indeed excellent." Walternate enthused, smiling at Donald. Then he turned to his granddaughter. "I also brought some other gadgets that may prove to be useful to you my dear, I will explain their uses and show you how they work later."

"Thanks, grandpa, you're the best," Etta's smile widened. "So this means that we can travel tomorrow?" She asked, addressing Donald.

Suddenly the room grew quiet.

Donald was the first to break the silence. "As we discussed before, Noyo County in the state of Southern British Columbia - which corresponds with Washington State on our side - is the optimal location to travel to the past in order for you to intercept your father. So, if Dr. Bishop is able to provide transportation, I believe that we are sufficiently prepared to depart tomorrow."

Walter nodded, "I already have an aircraft on standby, which will be ready as you require. I'll make the necessary calls right away if that is your wish my dear?" He received a nod from his granddaughter. "Tomorrow morning then, you will be in Noyo County to begin your journey."

Etta smiled cheerfully "Then tomorrow it is!" she said, a thrill of anticipation running through her. If all went well, she would find herself face to face with her father in only twenty four hours.

Her demeanour contrasted starkly with Eddie's. They exchanged looks and Etta's smile dropped when she noticed the sad, almost defeated expression clouding Eddie's face. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something to reassure him, but she could think of nothing sufficient.

The moment was interrupted by Donald, whom by his nature was focused only on the task at hand. "Very well. There is much to be done today, we have to prepare everything for transportation. Come Edward, we must start immediately."

A muted, "Yeah," was the only thing that came out of Eddie's mouth. Resigned, he followed Donald to the far side of the lab, where the time traveling machine had been assembled for diagnostic tests. He started work disassembling it without looking back at Etta, silently preforming his task.

"I'll give you both a hand once I have made the necessary arrangements," Walternate said to Donald as he made his way towards his old office. Donald nodded back at him as a thank you gesture.

Etta remained still, her eyes focused on her cousin. Astrid put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back from her trance. "He'll get over it Etta. He knows we don't have another choice. And I will be here to make sure he is ok."

Etta looked back at the older woman. "I know, Aunt Astrid. I appreciate that, I really do. But why does it feel like I'm trading him and all of you guys, for a chance to be with my parents? Why does it have to be this way?"

"Oh Etta," Astrid ran her hand over Etta's back soothing her. "You are not trading anything and you don't have to feel guilty for leaving us behind. You're embarking on a very dangerous mission that will change our world's fate. If in the process you get to be with your parents, sweetie, you don't have to feel guilty about that."

Astrid leant on the workbench and looked across at the rusty old sensory deprivation tank. It brought a multitude of memories to the forefront of her mind, though one more strongly than the rest. "God, I still remember like it was yesterday. I was alone in the lab when your mother came out of that tank. Dripping wet and shaken after she had managed to escape from the Other Side, all by herself. No one had noticed that she'd been switched, not even your father," Astrid grimaced and her stomach still twisted uncomfortably when she thought about it.

"I was terrified when I saw her collapse on the floor. Her body full of these strange markings," Astrid paused drawing her finger across her face as she remembered. Etta noticed how disturbed the former agent was by relieving that particular memory. "Later we learned that they were preparing her for a live dissection procedure, they were going to cut her open to remove her organs for study, before she managed to escape."

Etta stared in shock at Astrid. She had been told that her mother had been brainwashed and tortured, but both Astrid and Donald had remained elusive about the details of what had happened. She swallowed dryly, distraught and sickened by the revelation. "You told me before that my father spent those two months with Olivia from this side thinking she was my mother. Is that right?" she asked, not being able to fully understand how such a thing could have occurred.

Astrid gave her a sad smile. "Yes. After your mother came back, it was so painful and heart-breaking to watch them being torn apart, all because of something that neither of them were guilty off. It was obvious that they loved each other very much, but what happened took an enormous toll on them. It almost ended their relationship."

Astrid placed her hand on Etta's shoulder. "But now you have a chance to change that. You can make their lives and their future a better one. Furthermore, you will be affecting a better future for our world. No one can ask any more of you than that."

Etta took in Astrid's words. She smiled and moved in to hug the former Fringe agent. "Thank you Aunt Astrid. I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

The evening was spent at the Bishop's house. Elizabeth prepared dinner for the group, a farewell of sorts for Etta. Olivia, Lincoln and Trevor also joined them. Although the details of Etta's mission were kept secret, known only by Walternate and Etta's group, everybody knew that she was going on a journey and that she would not be coming back.

The mood was gloomy, but everyone tried their best to keep things cheerful.

After dinner they all went out into the garden, enjoying the pleasant weather that the late spring had brought to Boston. Eddie sat alone near an ornamental pond, looking below the surface at the fish swimming idly in no discernible pattern while he allowed his mind to drift a thousand miles from there.

Etta approached him silently, sitting on the paved seat beside him. He looked at her with a sad smile on his face, acknowledging her presence. "Eddie..." she started to say, but he interrupted her.

"What season will it be when you get there?"

She frowned a bit, not expecting such question. "If I recall Astrid said it was late spring when my dad crossed over to the Other Side, so I guess it will be pretty much like it is now."

He nodded and turned back to the fish, silence resumed, disturbed only by the gentle trickle of water into the pond. "You're going to see her," Eddie said after a few minutes, still without looking at Etta.

"Who?"

"Ella."

Etta felt a lump forming in her throat. Eddie looked at her, his eyes shimmering with the pain and sadness he felt. Still, he tried to mask it with a smile. "I wish you could tell her that her little brother misses her very much, but I guess it would be pointless. In that timeline she doesn't have a brother."

"Eddie..." Etta sighed.

"It's ok Etta. You will be giving her a chance to grow up in a better world, to have a family of her own someday. That's much more important than me being around. I know she will be just a kid and she won't know who you are, but I'm really happy you will get to see her and that in some way she will get to have you in her life." He reached for Etta's hand interlacing their fingers.

"I've come to terms with it; that this is what has to be done. We've fought so hard to defeat the Observers and so many have died to achieve victory; your parents, your grandfather, Ella, Simon... Now we finally have a real chance to accomplish that. My personal feelings shouldn't count, you succeeding in this mission is what really matters. And I know you will," he said squeezing her hand in his own, both drawing and giving strength. "I can't think of anyone more capable than you. The Observers will never see it coming."

Etta remained in silent contemplation. She used the moment to cement him in her memory, taking in every minute detail of his features, knowing that after tomorrow, she would never see him again; his olive green eyes - the same as her mother and their grandfather Dunham's had been - stared back at her communicating kindness and sadness, though the glassy depths were also imbued with pure conviction.

She threw her arms at her cousin's neck, resting her head on his shoulder, letting go of the tears that had been building and threatening to escape all evening. Eddie held her in his arms, kissing her head softly. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine here." He caressed her back gently, letting her cry for a while.

When the torrent of her tears slowed he broke their embrace, holding her by the shoulders and looking at her with a gentle smile. "Agent Dunham has already offered to enrol me in the Fringe Academy. She's got a soft spot for me you know. I'm the nephew she never had."

Etta smiled at him, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "She told me. She thinks you'll make a good agent with all the experience you have with the resistance." She bit her lower lip and her familiar teasing look returned. "Lucky for you I didn't tell her that you were only that good because you were always following my lead."

Eddie snorted, "Well, what you don't know is that I let you think I was following your lead, when I was actually letting you take point so you would act as my very own human shield."

Etta looked sideways at him amused by his retort, "Edward Blake, I never thought that after all these years you would finally grow a sense of humour."

"Well, if Fringe Academy doesn't work out, I could always become a stand-up comedian."

Etta chuckled and stood up, offering her hand to her cousin so he would follow her, "Come on Seinfeld, let's go join the others, they must already be wondering where we got to."

Eddie took her cousin's hand and stood up, following her to join the rest of the group, spending the remainder of the evening enjoying each other's company.

* * *

At 8:30 am of the next day, they boarded the aircraft Walternate had chartered for them.

Eddie whistled looking around him. It seemed they had entered a very classy executive room. From the outside the aircraft seemed like something that had come out of a comic book. But the inside was even more impressive. The seats were very comfortable, arranged in groups of four with a small table in the centre of each group.

The aircraft could transport up to 16 passengers, plus the crew composed of a pilot and a co-pilot.

Etta, Eddie, Walternate and Donald occupied one of the clusters of seats. Astrid, Olivia and Lincoln sat together at another. The remaining seats where taken by Fringe agents hand-picked by Olivia to ensure no one would disturb them during the time they needed to assemble and activate the time traveling machine once they were on site in Noyo County.

"Wow!" Eddie almost jumped from his seat when the engines roared and moments later he felt the aircraft shift, his stomach lurching with the unexpected movement. The craft launched vertically into the sky with tremendous thrust, though even with the power of the manoeuvre the lift was smooth and controlled throughout.

"Don't worry, you will only feel this effect during take-off. After, our journey will be entirely smooth," Walternate explained to the young man, sensing his jitters.

Eddie looked out through the window in awe, feeling the movement swing from the initial vertical lift to forward momentum, now being pinned back in his seat with acceleration. "How fast can it go?"

"It depends, but normal cruise speed averages at about 1,300mph. We will arrive at our destination in about two hours," Walternate further explained.

"Cool!" Eddie smiled at the former secretary. He turned his attention back to the window.

Etta remain silent. She glanced at Eddie, happy to see him so excited about the aircraft, in opposition to how sad and gloomy he had been since the day before.

She turned to survey the other occupants of the aircraft. Her grandfather kept a lively talk with Eddie, giving him technical details about the ship. Donald worked at a portable holographic terminal typing away at something, immersed in his own world, while Astrid, Lincoln and Olivia maintained an animated conversation between them. In that moment Etta realised that for the first time in years, she and the people she loved were safe and happy, enjoying the moment and living without constant fear of imminent attack by an oppressive invader.

It would be so easy to forget about the plan and stay right here with her family and friends who cared deeply about her, and she about them. To live in this safe environment and enjoy all the freedom that this world had to offer.

But Etta knew what had to be done. Simon had sacrificed himself to protect the plan. She owed him at least the chance of completing it. Then there were all the others who had suffered and paid with their lives and that was reason enough why she couldn't stay. She would go through with it, no matter the cost to her own safety.

* * *

They arrived in Noyo County around mid-morning. Just as Walternate had predicted, their aircraft got them there without incident less then two hours after leaving Boston.

The vertical landing allowed them to set down directly at their departure point. They stepped from the craft and found themselves in a glade surrounded by dense woods, not far from the Northwest Passage Motel. Olivia and Lincoln had scouted the location and made sure the field was out of sight of any onlookers, as a final precaution they deployed their Fringe agents into the surrounding area just in case anyone strayed into the woods. The rest of the group unloaded their equipment from the craft and set to work immediately.

Walter and Eddie were tasked with assembling Donald's version of the DizRay time traveling machine. It was made up of four metallic pillars - each approximately two feet high - which had been staked vertically into the ground forming a square five feet across. The pillars had all been connected up to a control console standing outside the square's perimeter. Meanwhile Astrid and Etta carried bags of supplies and equipment to the centre of their setup.

Donald took care of some final adjustments to the device he'd made by adapting his tech, designed to open a portal to access the hidden timeline which Peter's actions had effectively wiped out when he created the bridge between their two universes. Donald would open the gateway once they reached the past and Etta had safely made the jump back to their side once more.

Once finished with the adjustments of his device, Donald turned to the console of the time travelling machine. Walternate and Eddie approached him, watching carefully as Donald programmed the console. "This is really outstanding technology my friend," the former secretary said.

"Its design is based on an invention your counterpart created many years ago."

"Interesting," Walter said with a glint in his eye.

"You have to promise that you will destroy it once we are through," Donald said levelling a stern look at Walter, he also checked with Eddie who stood beside him.

"Rest assured, it will. Impressive it may be, but it is also extraordinarily dangerous. Eddie and I will take care of it once you are gone," Walternate said resting a hand on Eddie's shoulder, who nodded his agreement.

"Thank you Dr. Bishop," Donald nodded. He continued programing the machine, quickly taping commands on an old style keyboard. "It is done," he reported after only a couple more minutes' work.

"Are you sure we will end up at the right point in time?" Etta asked, checking the console with some apprehension.

"We will find out when we get there," Donald retorted, impassive as always.

"That's reassuring," Etta said sarcastically not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"Henrietta, although this is the first time I will use this technology, it is not the first time that I have travelled through time. I have reviewed the equation the machine uses many times these past weeks, it has always given me the same result. The only thing left to do was to input our current location, it is one of the variables needed. I have reviewed it, with this information included, three times since we arrived and again I get the expected result. It is satisfactory." Etta nodded, accepting Donald's explanation.

Eddie stepped closer to them. "Actually there is something that I'm curious about."

Donald looked at the young man, "What is it?"

"How are you going to know if you have arrived in the right year? Are you going to ask the first person you find?"

"Actually, I have been expecting you to ask me that for quite some time Edward." Donald smiled at him when Eddie pulled a face at his remark. Donald removed a small gadget from his pocket. "This will give me an accurate reading," he explained and opened the two halves of the housing on a hinge, the same way an old compass opened, like an oyster shell. On one side it had a small keypad and on the other half was a display, already lit up and showing scrolling Observer symbols.

"That's an Observer device?" Eddie asked frowning at the strange and indecipherable, but uncomfortably familiar characters.

"Yes. It is a space-time compass. It analyses the constellations in the sky and the neutrino particles surrounding us, returning the approximate position in time and space. The error margin is 0.0000001% which means it can be no more than a few minutes and centimetres inaccurate."

"Remarkable." Walternate said in awe, looking with evident interest at the device.

Donald closed it and put it back in his pocket and turned to Etta. "We must go Henrietta."

Etta nodded and approached Lincoln and Olivia. "Thank you so much for everything. Without your help, this wouldn't be possible." She embraced the couple, giving each a chaste kiss.

"You don't have to thank us Etta. I hope you succeed in your mission." Olivia said retuning the embrace.

"Have a safe journey and be careful Etta," Lincoln added.

"Please, take care of Eddie and Astrid for me."

"Don't worry, we will do. They're safe here with us," Olivia reassured Etta with a smile.

She then turned to her grandfather. "Grandpa."

Walternate opened his arms, welcoming Etta into a warm embrace. She rested her head against his chest and he placed and gentle kiss in her hair. "Stay safe my beautiful granddaughter. I hope everything goes according to plan." She broke the embrace and looked at the old man in front of her, his eyes misty. "And please don't give up on me," he requested.

"I won't grandpa."

Next she went to Astrid, who was already in tears. "Please tell Walter and you're parents that I missed them so much."

"I will Aunt Astrid."

"I still can't believe that you are going to see Gene," Astrid said chuckling in the midst of her tears, trying to lighten the mood.

Etta finally turned to Eddie. The cousins hugged each other in silence. Once they broke apart, they stared at one another, each with a sad smile. Then Etta walked away without saying a word.

She joined Donald inside of the perimeter of the Dizray machine, where he was already waiting for her. He gave a small nod to Walternate where he had taken up position to man the console. Upon receiving the signal the former secretary pressed the start button causing the metallic pillars to come to life. They emanated a soft blue light, and at the centre of the square where Etta and Donald stood, a small ball of blue light appeared. It grew steadily in both size and brightness, slowly enveloping the two occupants at the core. Within a few seconds the light occupied the whole space inside the four pillars, until finally it disappeared, taking with it the two time travellers.

* * *

The blue light dissipated, revealing an empty glade in front of Donald and Etta, where just a few seconds ago their friends had stood, now there was only grass. Donald stumbled as he tried to take a step forward. "Whoa there!" Etta reached reflexively for his arm, keeping him steady.

"Thank you Henrietta. I will be fine in a few seconds."

Etta nodded with a concerned smile. She waited a few seconds before releasing his arm, making sure he was able to stand on his own. He nodded his gratitude and was soon back on track. "Now you must cross us back to our universe Henrietta."

"You're sure you feel fine?"

"Yes, but we must hurry."

"Ok," Etta said as she refocused and in a blink of an eye they were back in their home world.

Donald took out the space time compass and quickly taped on its small keyboard.

"So?" Etta prompted, craning to see the device's digital display as it made calculations. The screen flashed through a sequence of symbols at a rapid pace, until it settled on a steady reading.

"We are in the correct place and time," Donald reported closing the small device. Etta nodded relieved. "But we must hurry, your father will be arriving at the motel in three hours. I must open the portal to the erased timeline."

Donald opened the duffel bag and took out a square piece of apparatus with a circular lens mounted on one side. He sat down in the grass, placing the portal device in front of him. Next he removed a thin cylinder which resembled a magician's wand. He laid the cylinder across his lap with its tip touching the device laying on the ground. As soon as contact was made, a holographic image appeared above the wand, showing a virtual display and control pad. He began tapping on few commands on the keyboard. "The holographic wand is synced with the device," he explained. "I shall now calibrate it. Henrietta could you please assemble the tripod?"

"Off course," she said and began searching through the bag he'd indicated, taking out the tripod. Within a few seconds she had assembled it on the ground.

Donald picked up the portal device mounting it on the tripod. He directed the small lens to a clear area just in front of them. He made a few more strokes on the holographic keyboard causing a beam of light to be projected from the lens. A circle of light formed a few feet ahead of them, large enough that a person could pass comfortably through it. Donald continued to type on the keyboard and soon an image started forming inside the circle. Slowly the image of a similar landscape became visible where seconds before only an area of flat light could be seen, but the image seemed blurred, fading in and out as if clouds of mist drifted by momentarily obscuring the view before resolving again. Donald gave a few more strokes on the keyboard until the image settled.

Still, looking at it gave Etta an eerie feeling, as if she were looking through poorly manufactured lens to view that particular area, one which distorted the landscape and everything there.

A small rabbit appeared on the other side of the portal, Etta watched as it hopped into their field of vison from the left. It stopped in the centre and raised his head looking directly and with evident curiosity through the portal. Then the animal resumed its path, bounding on until it disappeared to the right. Etta smiled and looked towards Donald.

He returned the smile, "It is done Henrietta." She nodded and picked-up the remaining backpack and the duffel bag. "You must find a secure place for your luggage, if the contents were to fall into the wrong hands, the future consequences could be even more catastrophic than the Observer's Invasion."

"I know Donald, you told me that a thousand times," she said rolling her eyes.

"Then I expect that you will not forget. Also remember to keep the drawing I provided with you at all times. You will need it to convince your father of the dangers of crossing over to the other side."

She patted her jacket. "Yes Donald, I have it right here in my pocket."

They stood together at the edge of the portal, Donald turned to Etta and grasped her by the shoulders. "Goodbye Henrietta. Remember everything we taught you, it is vitally important for the success of your mission. I am confident that you will succeed."

She nodded and put her arms around Donald's neck embracing the former Observer for the final time. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Goodbye Donald, I don't know how to thank you for everything you have done for us."

"There is no need to thank me. I only did what was needed. It is my responsibility to set things right. I am only sorry that the enormity of this task falls upon your shoulders. It should be me carrying out the rest of the plan."

Etta pulled back. "I'm not sorry that it _is_ me, my friend. Believe me that I am not," Etta said with a genuine smile. Then she turned and made for the portal. She looked back at Donald one last time. "You've brought the medicine my granddad gave you for the pain?"

"Yes I did," Donald took a small vial from his pocket.

"Promise me you will take it and go to Boston afterwards. My grandfather will find a way to stabilize you."

Donald nodded and said, "Do not worry." He tucked the vial back in his pocket. "Now, go Henrietta." She gave a single nod and took a deep breath. Then she took a step forward, with determination in her stride she crossed the threshold into the hidden timeline.

Donald was relieved to see Etta go through without a hitch. Once she was on the other side, she turned and waved goodbye. He smiled at her and continued to watch, now through the blurred image which separated the two timelines, as Etta walked away and eventually disappeared into the forest.

He kept the portal open just in case Etta came back. After almost half an hour he closed it. He collected the device, the tripod and the wand, then sat on the grass placing the different items in front of him. Donald took a moment to enjoy his surroundings smiling as he watched a squirrel climbing a nearby tree carrying some kind of bulb which was almost as big as him. He turned his face up to the sky, taking in the sun-rays. A few cotton clouds passed by in slow motion, contrasting with the clear blue sky of the warm afternoon.

The memory of Walter and young Peter drowning in the frozen lake came to his mind. Donald had made a difficult decision back then. He saved the life of a young boy and in doing so had interfered with the course of events, breaking one of Observers sacred rules. He had done it to correct his original mistake. Everything that had come after was his responsibility.

Just as it was now.

Donald reached into his pocket and took out a small spherical object. He breathed in the clean forest air and braced himself for what he was about to do. Now that Etta had crossed into the erased timeline, there could be no trace left of what they had done.

"It was an interesting journey," he said to himself and smiled before he pressed the trigger of the anti-matter grenade.

**End of Part 1**

* * *

**A/N Once again major kudos go to Crystalline Green. Her contribution in this chapter was outstanding. Without her editing, adding and suggestions, it would not be the same, by far.  
**

**Thanks mate, I owe you another brewery :) **


	13. Part 2 - Back to Where You Never Were

**(Part 2 – The Blueverse)  
Chapter 13 – Back to Where You Never Were.**

_Noyo County, WA - May, 2010_

If Donald had calculated correctly, following her arrival, Etta still had two hours in hand before her father would return to The Northwest Passage motel. Her priority was to find a place to keep her duffel and backpack secure, her mission depended on it.

She decided to put one of Walternate's credit card and ID packages to test. The transaction went through without a hitch, and within ten minutes of walking into the reception, she was handed a key to her room.

Once inside Etta stowed her luggage in the closet. She drank two glasses of cold water, then allowed herself the luxury of refreshing herself with a quick shower. Then she set off to find Peter's room. She was in luck, the corridor began off another wing, creating a T, and what she found in the space made her smile. A vending machine had been set at the junction and would make for perfect cover, it would also allow for surveillance at a discreet distance and still afforded her a decent vantage point of her father's room. Giving the drinks dispenser a quick once over she discovered that it had a credit card slot, so she slipped hers in and was soon rewarded by an ice cold can dropping out for her refreshment.

She sat down on the floor next to the drinks machine, and for the first time since she stepped off the aircraft early that morning she tried to relax. She rested her back against the wall and settled into her wait. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a high energy protein bar supplied by her grandfather, "You must keep your strength up," he'd told her. She popped the tab on her drink and sipped the sugary liquid slowly.

It was funny to think that she had been in Boston just a few hours before, when technically that was twenty five years in the future, in another timeline and alternate universe. She chuckled to herself thinking about it, munching through her energy bar. She allowed her mind to wander for a while, thinking about nothing, still, thinking about everything.

Etta was brought back from her inner thoughts when she noticed a man of about five feet ten, with short, light brown hair, casually walking towards the door of her father's room. He stopped outside and began discretely picking the lock.

'Newton' she thought to herself. Astrid and Donald had warned her that he would be waiting for Peter in the room. She clenched her jaw and reached inside her jacket, as Newton successfully disengaged the lock and disappeared inside.

She decided against engaging him, for now. But the thought of a fight brought a sudden memory to her mind.

Eddie.

He had always been there to watch her back since they joined the Resistance, and even earlier then that, while growing up. They worked as a well-oiled machine and were one hell of a team. In that moment, she would have given anything to have him there by her side again. Etta felt a tear roll down her cheek. She closed her eyes and wiped her face with the back of her hand, then took a deep breath and focused once more, on the mission that lay ahead.

About twenty minutes passed before Etta noticed movement to her left. A tall man walking towards her. Seeing such a familiar figure triggered within her memories, that only moments before, she would not have believed could still be so strong. With them, came a deep sense of longing.

Her father was right there.

Peter was in deep thought and didn't notice her presence as he made his slow, almost aimless, approach. He was younger than she remembered him, but there was a slump to his shoulders, and his winter blue eyes - the same ones she remembered looking at her with tenderness and love - here carried a deep sadness in their depths. It made her heart clench seeing him like this. She had an overwhelming urge to run towards him and jump into his arms, 'Everything is going to be ok daddy,' she wanted so much to say to him.

Etta took another deep breath to keep her emotions at bay. She heaved herself up, feeling the weight of her task, and bracing herself for it as she walked towards him. "Peter Bishop?" she asked bringing him out of his thoughts.

He was startled by her presence. Peter stopped and stared at Etta for a few seconds with a confused look. "Who are you? What do you want?" His eyes narrowed into a suspicious squint. "Did Broyles send you?"

Etta raised her hands in a sign of surrender, she didn't want her father to think she was a threat. "No, Broyles didn't send me. I just need to talk to you, it's very important that you listen to what I have to say. I came a long way just to do this, many people risked their lives so I could be here."

The answer Etta supplied only seemed to deepen his confusion. "Risked their lives? What are you talking about? And you still haven't told me who you are."

"No I haven't," she paused and exhaled before continuing, "My name is Henrietta, Henrietta Bishop. But you can call me Etta."

* * *

Peter continued to stare at the young woman, the cogs in his brain working at full speed trying to process what she had just said. "Are you from the Other Side? A relative of mine?" he asked.

"No, I'm not from the Alternate Universe, however, I am a relative of yours."

Peter frowned. The girl apparently had knowledge about his home universe, although stating she wasn't from there. "So who are you? A cousin? From where?"

Etta took a few cautious steps towards him, "I promise that I will explain everything to you, but we don't have much time right now."

Peter continued to stare at Etta, her cryptic answer only left him more confused and wary of the young woman. "What do you mean with 'we don't have much time'?"

Etta looked over her shoulder then back at Peter. "There's someone waiting for you in your room, a man called Newton."

Peter flinched at the sound of Newton's name. The young woman in front of him maintained a serious expression.

"How do I know you're not one of them?" Peter asked.

Etta stared back at him then reached for one of her pockets. She took out a pocket knife making Peter flinch once again. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," Etta said not wanting to scare Peter off. She opened the knife and made a small cut on one of her fingers. Then she showed it to Peter. "See, I don't bleed mercury, I'm not a shapeshifter." She closed the knife putting it back in her pocket.

Peter examined the small wound then he looked back at Etta with a nod. "Ok fair enough. But why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm here to prevent you from making a huge mistake. And I assure you that Newton is inside your room waiting for you, I watched him break in. But like I told you we don't have much time, your father is about to arrive."

"What? Walter is here?" Peter looked around searching for the old scientist. The look on his face showed he was not happy with the idea of running into Walter.

"Not that Walter. The one from the Alternate Universe, your biological father," Etta explained.

"What?" Peter's eyes widened at her response.

Etta grabbed Peter's arm, taking him by surprise, and pulled him around the corner into the adjoining corridor. Before he could say anything in protest she shushed him. Then she raised and opened hand in front of him urging him to stay still. She took a quick peek around the corner then turned back to Peter. "Watch," she said directing him with her head in the direction of his room.

Peter decided to indulge the young woman. Although nothing that she had said made any sense, she didn't seem to be an immediate threat. There was something in her that was familiar. Besides if she was right, Newton was in his room. And if his biological father was really about to step in through his room's front door, that was something worth watching.

"I don't see anyone," Peter said turning to Etta after waiting almost a minute. The situation was becoming surreal, adding to fact that he was already very tired from the day's events. Having to indulge some lunatic young woman was starting to annoy him and it was the last thing he needed after spending the last few days helping the police catch a serial killer. "Listen I'm not sure what you're trying to achieve here, but I'm tired and I want to lay down. I'm going to my room."

Etta grabbed his arm. "Wait, please just a few more seconds."

"Please, take your..."

"There!" Etta interrupted him, pointing to a man approaching the entrance of his room.

Peter watched astonished. A perfect carbon copy of Walter wearing a suit walked to the door of his room. The man's posture was of someone very sure of himself, almost arrogant. Nothing like the Walter Peter knew. Newton opened the door and the man walked inside.

"That's..." Peter muttered almost as a whisper.

"...your father, the Secretary of Defence, Walter Bishop," Etta completed.

Peter stared at the young woman. The confusion on his face was clear. "Who the hell are you?"

Etta looked back at her father and decided that it was time to tell him the truth, no matter the consequences. She had to make him believe her. "I know that what I'm going to tell you is going to sound... unbelievable, to say the least. Even crazy. But if you give me a chance I can prove that what I'm about to say is true."

Peter chuckled "Sweetheart, 'crazy' left the station a long time ago, we're way beyond that point now. So please, go ahead."

Etta nodded and gave Peter a light smile, then she went for it. "I come from the future," she paused watching his eyes tick rapidly with a slight side to side movement as he looked into hers, she also noticed his mouth twitch slightly on one side, "and I'm your daughter."

Etta kept looking at her father waiting for a reaction. The smirk had dropped away without a trace. He stared at her, his face blank, not saying a word.

Agonisingly slowly his face reanimated, blinking, then lips parted taking an age to formulate words while his mind worked through the shock. "My daughter?" Peter finally asked. Etta gave a small nod. "From the future?" he asked again. Etta bit her lower lip and nodded once more.

Peter gave Etta a condescending smirk. "Well kiddo, I'm sure you won't mind if I go to my room, because I really need to talk with your grandfather."

Etta gave Peter a confused look. "What?"

"Good-bye my 'daughter,'" he said passing by her, striding towards his room.

"No, wait!" Etta grabbed Peter's arm roughly, stopping him in place. "You can't go in there, please. He wants you to go with him to the other side…"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Peter interrupted, his heated words dripping in sarcasm.

Etta shook her head frustrated, she pressed on speaking a little louder to stress her words. "And if you do, something will happen that you will regret for the rest of your life."

"Let go of my arm. Now!"

"Please, your father is not a good man, he wants you to go with him because he needs you so he can destroy this universe. He doesn't care about anything else."

"Young lady, I don't care who you think you are, where or 'when' you came from but you need to release me," Peter glowered at her. "Right now," he said slowly in a grave tone.

His expression was unfamiliarly aggressive, something absolutely unknown to Etta. She looked at her father taken aback by his reaction. Her hand released his arm at it's own volition.

As soon as he was free, Peter turned towards his room.

Etta was in a turmoil of emotions, but she refused to give up. "Einai kalytero anthropo apo ton patera toy," she almost shouted after him.

Peter stopped in his tracks and whirled back to her.

"Your mother used to say that to you; 'Be a better man than your father'. Olivia Dunham said the exact same thing when she woke up from her coma, almost a year ago."

Unbidden tears pooled in Etta's eyes, and her voice grew tight with emotion. "You used to say that to me when I was a child."

Peter took a step towards Etta and levelled his index finger on her face. "I have no idea how you manage to gather so much information about me. You've done a hell of a job, congratulations. But do not think for a minute that you know me." He lowered his hand closing it in a fist. "I'm starting to lose my patience with you, so I suggest that you leave now."

He turned his back on her again, intending once again to make for his room. Etta took out a piece of paper from her jacket pocket and cut him off, standing in front of him. She unfolded the paper putting it right in front of his face, held up in a trembling hand. "A drawing much like this one is going to be delivered to Olivia Dunham by an Observer in a few days."

Peter had no choice but to look at the drawing. He took a few seconds staring at it. Etta continued, "Like I said before, your biological father's motives in taking you back aren't as innocent as you may like to think. He wants to use you to power the machine depicted in this drawing. It is capable of destroying worlds. His goal is to destroy this universe."

Peter took the drawing from Etta's hand, looking intently at it.

"What do you think Olivia will do after she sees this? - And I assure you she _will_ see this. Once she realizes what your biological father intends to do with you?"  
Peter kept looking at drawing in silence. Etta pressed on.

"She will crossover to the other side intending to bring you back. Not only because she wants to prevent the destruction of this universe, it's also because she cares about you, very much, and the idea of you in that machine..."

Peter looked back at her. Etta could see the storm of emotions going through her father's face. She knew she had hit a nerve and continued.

"She will manage to get to you and she'll convince you to come back. And you will, but on the way back, she'll be caught up in a firefight and she will be captured without anyone noticing. It will be the Olivia Dunham from the other Universe that will come back with you as an infiltrated agent. The Olivia from this universe will stay behind as a prisoner. They will torture her, keep her in a small, dark cell for weeks, brainwash her and experiment on her. And during the weeks she is on the other side the other Olivia will be here, pretending to be her and _no one_ will notice. Not even you." Etta allowed a slight pause in her narrative, allowing the words to take effect. Then she gently touched her father's arm and gave him a yearning smile. "But the Olivia from this side, _your Olivia_, does not give up. Eventually she will manage to escape, by herself. Peter, what happens to her on the other side will take a tremendous toll on you both."

Etta paused again, letting her words sink in him. Peter stared at the drawing, silent and immersed in his own thoughts. Then she went in for the knockout punch. "I know that you must be disappointed at her for keeping the truth from you, but do you really resent her so much that you don't care what happens to her?"

Peter looked back at Etta, a flash of anger igniting in his eyes, but which was soon extinguished by a rush of shame. A look of deep sadness then settled over his features.

"I do not resent her," he said quietly. He paused for a few seconds looking back at the drawing. "You said you can prove what you are saying?"

"Yes, just test my DNA, compare it against yours. It will prove beyond a doubt that I am your daughter. I promise you that if the test comes back negative, which I assure you it will not, I'll leave you alone and you will never see me again."

He nodded, still not saying a word. Etta knew he would be conflicted on how to proceed.

"I know this is too much to process and how crazy it seems, especially after what you have been through the last few weeks. But consider this, if there's a chance that I am right, you have the opportunity to prevent something horrible happening to Olivia. I know how much you care about her. I know very well what she means to you and I assure you that you mean a great deal to her too."

Peter shifted his eyes from Etta. He looked lost and distraught. Etta gave him a bright smile. "I know this because she's my mother." Peter looked back at her, swallowing hard, taken aback from what he had heard. Etta kept smiling. "I'm the living proof of how much you mean to each other."

* * *

**A/N And here it is, the first chapter of part two, finally! Hope everyone enjoyed it.**  
**Crystalline Green was again the awesome editor/advisor she usually is.**  
**It wouldn't be the same without you mate!**  
**Another thanks goes to the amazing Elialys.**  
**She writes Peter/Olivia/Etta like no one else in this fandom and she was kind enough to give me an opinion about this chapter before I published it.  
****Thanks girl, you rock! Oh, and we are all waiting for the next chapter of 'Shivered Bones' :)**


	14. Father-Daughter Day

**Chapter 14 – Father/Daughter Day**

Etta insisted on acquiring a new vehicle. She talked Peter into ditching his rental which he'd used until then, not wanting to take any chances being tracked by Newton and Walternate.

Etta made a swift purchase of an unspectacular car at one of Noyo County's used car dealers, choosing an old but solid 99' Buick. She paid for with one of her credit cards, secure in the knowledge that it could not be traced back to either of them. Peter didn't say a word when she used one of her false aliases to complete the purchase.

New York was their destination. Peter decided he wanted to perform a DNA test on Etta, one he could verify himself and if the results were as she assured him they would be, then it would without doubt prove her claim that she was his daughter. The Big Apple was the obvious choice. A certain company had its headquarters there, with ample resources to perform whatever tests Peter may needed. Besides, the CEO of said company had proven to be a discrete and often useful asset in the past, he hoped he would be able to rely on her discretion and hospitality once again, upon their arrival.

Peter drove. He knew Etta had given him the choice to do so to make him feel more in control. She had told her story over the previous hours and also the reason why she was there. To be honest with himself, Peter shouldn't have been inclined to believe in such a bizarre narrative; Timeline resets, Observers invading, him vanishing from the timeline and being brought back by nothing more than his connection to Olivia, a machine capable of destroying worlds that could be powered only by him. It was all too surreal to believe in.

However the girl seemed to absolutely believe it and she had told her story with such strength of conviction. Beside her crazy tale, his companion didn't appear to be delusional. Which made everything even stranger.

If the story wasn't true, even if the girl believed in it, what was the purpose behind it all? To lure him into doing something? If that were the case, why come up with such an odd tale? There were far more simple ways to force someone to do things they didn't want to.

But the possibility of the opposite being true was something Peter was having a hard time even considering. If that were the case, the implications of what he had learned from Etta were tremendous, for him personally and the future of mankind as a whole.

Add this to the fact that his biological father had shown up at his motel room - which brought him right back to the painful memory he had been so intent on escaping, that of Walter's betrayal - only made things even more complicated and confusing.

Etta had attempted to explain the reasons behind Walter's actions, but Peter didn't know what to believe any longer. The only thing he knew for sure was that, no matter what discoveries lay ahead, he wasn't ready to forgive the old man yet.

Even running away hadn't worked out as successfully as it used to. It had been something he had previously excelled at; picking up at a moment's notice and just disappearing. But that all changed on the day he met Olivia for the first time, in that hotel lobby in Baghdad.

The mess his life had become was now developing a knack for catching up with him with a vengeance, not to mention bewildering stealth.

He was consumed with the urge to run once more, to leave all of this behind. It was eating him from the inside.

Only one thing was keeping him on this current course; Etta's account of Olivia's ordeal on the Other Side, a fate she insisted he would seal if he allowed himself to take the easiest option out.

Just the possibility that Olivia would go through hell and back, while he would be playing house for two months with her counterpart in unforgivable ignorance, sealed the decision. He had to at least verify Etta's tale no matter how quaint it seemed, before making any decision.

Peter threw the occasional glance towards the young woman. She leant her head against the window in silence, eyes fixated beyond the dark pane, though it was obvious she wasn't watching the passing landscape. Not that there was much to be seen at that time of the night, not while driving on a secondary road cut through thick forest.

The occasional vehicle passing by would flood the inside of their car with light, giving Peter a chance to better examine the young girl's features. He had to admit that she had a resemblance to Olivia. And it wasn't only because of her long blond hair that framed her beautiful face; the same way Olivia's would on the rare occasion she let her hair down. It was in her lips and nose; the way she wrinkled it when she spoke. The pleading look, almost desperate, she had given him back in the motel reminded him so much his first meeting with Olivia.

The resemblance was uncanny. So much so that it filled Peter with a sense of longing for the days he had spent alongside Olivia, before everything had gone to hell after they returned from Jacksonville.

Olivia almost always wore her hair pulled back into a ponytail, but Peter recalled each of the few times she had let her hair down. God, she was beautiful. The memory of them chasing after a lead in a Cambridge bar, for one of their earlier cases crossed his mind. It had been the first time he had seen Olivia laugh in such a carefree manner, after he had shown her one of his silly card tricks. In retrospect, maybe it had been that day that things started shifting from friendship to something else, at least for him. Seeing her happy and feeling that he was the reason behind that happiness, had triggered something in him that he simply hadn't been ready to admit back then. But that was in the past, and remembering it only added to his anguish.

Since leaving Boston, Peter had tried very hard to put all that behind him; his feelings for Olivia and Walter's betrayal.

But then Etta had showed up and his life had taken another erratic turn.

Peter glanced once more at the young woman. She had look of such sorrow on her face. Or maybe of longing if Peter were to put his finger on it. If she was telling the truth, then Peter couldn't even begin to imagine how it would feel; leaving everything and everyone she loved behind, never to see them again.

Or maybe he did know.

"I'm going to stop at the next motel we find. I really need to rest after everything that happened today. I think you need a rest too," Peter said giving Etta a gentle smile.

Etta looked back at him returning his smile. "Ok," she turned to the window once more, seemingly that single word as much conversation as she could entertain at the moment.

As much for his own piece of mind as for her, Peter decided to try to lighten the mood. "Those two bags you brought with you, I presume they're from the future also?"

Etta turned to Peter once again and confirmed with only a, "Yes."

"So anything interesting you got there, like a death-ray or a laser gun?"

Etta chuckled and shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Besides the piece of the wave sync machine I told you about, I also have a few devices that could be helpful to my mission. Plus identification; drivers licenses, credit cards and show me cards."

"Show me cards?" Peter frowned.

"It's the ID system they use on the Other Side," she gave a nonchalant shrug, "I brought them with me in case of the eventuality of having to cross over."

Peter was baffled by what Etta said. "And how would you do that?"

She gave another slight shrug, just the raising of her left shoulder. "I have the ability to do so. A talent I inherited from my mother."

Peter stared at her. "Olivia fell into a coma when she crossed over. Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not if you know how to do it correctly. Donald - the Observer I told you about - taught me how to. I can crossover without harm to myself or the people I bring along with me. It's demanding physically, but nothing that I can't handle."

Peter remained silent, the implications of what Etta had just revealed slowly dawning on him. "You said that you inherited from your mother, does it mean you also have Cortexiphan in your system?"

"Yes. According to the tests Donald preformed, my body produces it naturally."

Peter eyes widened. Even knowing that everything the young girl was telling him could be a lie, the sheer possibility that Olivia's offspring could be affected by the Cortexiphan she had in her system, because of Walter's trials, made him feel sick in the stomach.

"So any child Olivia conceives will be affected by the drug," he said more than he asked. "Damned you Walter," he muttered clenching his jaw and gripping the steering wheel harder.

Etta looked at him a bit surprised by his reaction. "I don't know if that's correct. According to Aunt Astrid and Donald, when I was conceived, my mother was being dosed by William Bell with massive doses of Cortexiphan without her knowledge," Etta inclined her head towards him. "It was not Walter's fault."

Peter kept his eyes on the road, but his anger was simmering once more. "Of course not, because conducting trails on Olivia when she was a child has nothing to do with that. It was perfectly ok," he said with a sneering tone. "Not to mention abducting a child from another reality. The man is a saint."

Etta stared at him, a sharp look on her face. "What Walter did to my mother when she was a child was inexcusable. But still, she forgave him. So it's not up to us to judge him for that," she said in a familiarly serious tone, "and as I told you before, he didn't have any intention of abducting you, he crossed over to save you, which he did. If Walter hadn't done that, you would have died. And you know what? I'm glad, because if he hadn't, I wouldn't be here," she shook her head. "I'm the child of parents from different realities. I'm a statistical impossibility, I shouldn't exist. But I do. Because Walter brought you over from the other side and he did that because he couldn't stand to see his son die all over again."

Etta, fixed him with an unwavering stare, hot with defiance. Peter couldn't help but feel the burn of it. He turned his attention back to the road, his attempt at lighten the mood had worked like a charm.

After that they remained silent, each focused on their own thoughts. Twenty minutes passed before they reached a small town. A billboard advertised a motel just beyond the town limits sign. Peter turned the car to the parking lot and they made their way to the reception. They booked two rooms and returned to the car to grab Etta's bags. "Let me help you with that," Peter said grabbing the duffel.

"Thanks," Etta threw the backpack over her shoulder. They walked towards their rooms in silence. "105, I guess this is mine," she said stopping at the door to her room and mustering a tired smile.

"Mine must be further ahead," Peter glanced at his key, the number 117 written on it. He set the duffel on the ground while Etta opened the door. "Good night Etta, sleep well."

"Night…" Etta hesitated briefly, allowing her eyes to slip closed on a lengthened blink, shutting them against the awkwardness of the moment. She wanted to call him dad, but she also understood his struggle and sense of discomfort with all of this. She finished simply with, "Peter."

They stared at each other a bit awkwardly for a few seconds. Peter was about to turn when Etta reached for his arm. "I'm sorry I snapped at you about Walter. You have every right to be mad at him."

Peter gave a slight nod and smiled, "It's ok, Etta. Forget about it."

She maintained the light grip on his arm. She looked down for a few seconds, then she raised her head and met his eyes, "Sometimes people do very stupid things to protect the ones they love. But they do it out of love, not with the intention of harming anyone or because they are bad people."

Peter swallowed heavily and gave another small nod, their cool blue eyes remained locked until she released his arm. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said turning towards her room.

"Night Etta," Peter offered with a wave. She turned back to offer one last smile, then closed the door behind her.

Peter stood rooted to the spot, still looking at the door. The young girl had made quite the impression on him in only a few hours. The idea that she could really be his daughter, still scared him, but he would be lying if he said the thought didn't excite him at the same time. The implications were tremendous. He and Olivia would have a daughter together.

That was one more thing he was going to have to deal with. But for the time being he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. But he might well have to worry about it once they reached New York and preformed the tests.

Peter turned and set off to find his room. He really needed a rest, it had been a very long day.

* * *

Etta lay on the bed looking at the ceiling. She had been like that for the past hour, sleep was nowhere to be found. Finally giving up she grabbed her jacket and went outside. Everything was quiet and still, everyone seemed to be asleep.

The motel consisted of three single floor buildings, all facing each other forming a U shape around the parking lot. Her room was in the central building, not far from one of the corners.

She walked to her left, back towards reception. The space between the buildings formed a passageway leading towards the back of the motel, which she had noticed earlier. She turned and walked along it. A few feet ahead of her was a wooden fence separating the motel from a glade and farther ahead lay the vastness of a cedar and pine forest.

Etta sat on the motel's manicured grass with her back against the fence looking up at the sky, bright with stars. Even with a full moon, she couldn't remembered ever seeing so many stars. It was quite beautiful the sight before her. Back in her world it was impossible to witness such a wonderful sky. Even during her stay on the Other Side, she had spent most of her time in Boston and New York, the city lights prevented observation of the stars in their full majesty, not as she was witnessing at that moment.

Etta's thoughts shifted to Eddie and Astrid, wondering what they would be doing. She thought about Donald. Had he made it back to Boston and had Walter managed to help him? She would never know. Etta lost track of time, immersed in her thoughts.

Her stomach grumbled in complaint of being neglected once more, effectively pulling her from her reverie. She should be heading back to her room and on the way she should try to get something to eat. Earlier she had noticed a vending machine, not far from the reception. She decided to make a stop there before going to bed.

Reaching the machine, Etta noticed it was an older model than the one she had used just a few hours ago. No credit cards allowed, only currency, of which she had none.

Etta huffed frustrated and decided to try something she had seen Lincoln do back at Fringe Headquarters on the Other Side. She kicked the machine and gave it a thump on one side. Nothing came out. She tried it again several times, until she decided that it would be better to stop before waking up all the guests in the motel. Etta silently walked away. First thing in the morning, she was going to ask Peter to help her withdraw money from an ATM.

Heading back towards her room, something caught her attention in the motel's parking lot. A navy-blue sedan, just like the one that had been parked near Peter's vehicle back in Noyo County. She checked the license plate as she drew nearer, it matched. This was definitely the same car.

Etta had stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago. All her senses leapt to full alert, the same way they did when on a mission with the Resistance. Etta cursed herself for leaving her gun back in her room, she could not afford to let her guard down just because there were no more Loyalists or Observers walking around. She would not make the same mistake again.

She quickly moved to her room to grab her weapon. After checking the clip and chambering the first round, she dropped it into her holster. She didn't want to raise any alarms by walking around with a gun in her hand, even if her gut was telling her that something was off.

Just as she was leaving her room, intending to check on Peter, a voice sounded from her left side, "Not so fast, young lady."

She turned towards the voice, finding a man standing behind the gun currently levelled at her face. The same man who had broken into Peter's room earlier, at the Northwest Passage motel.

"Don't even think of going for your gun," Newton warned. "Put your hands behind your head and get inside. Slowly."

Etta did as he said. If he wanted her dead he would have done it by them. "You must be Newton," she said walking back inside.

He tilted his head slightly, an expression of mild surprise effecting his features. Newton gave her an amused smile. "I see that my reputation precedes me."

Etta turned around, looking at him impassive, working hard to keep her expression neutral. "I'm curious, I've never seen a shapeshifter bleed. I've been told that it's quite interesting."

Newton closed the door and took a step towards Etta. "You're still alive because the Secretary is also curious. We have no idea who you are, there is no record of you. He wants to know how you managed to get to his son before us when no one else on this side would have known, let alone been able to do it."

"I'd be happy to tell him that myself. I presume he is in Peter's room."

"You will, but only after we get to our side. Now, stand perfectly still." He took a step closer.

Etta knew she had to act now, before Newton took her weapon. "Oh, you're planning on taking us to your universe? Let me save you the trouble." With that she focused on the light bulb on the ceiling, forcing it, making it explode. As the room was plunged into sudden darkness Newton fired his gun.

Etta crossed over instantaneously, before the bullet could reach her.

On the Other Side, the same room was occupied by a large man in his late 40's. He was laying on the bed, wearing only a shirt. He was stroking himself while watching an adult movie. The man was startled by the sudden appearance of the young woman. "What the...!?" he stammered.

"Stay still," Etta said to the man and pulled her gun out.

"Oh shit!" the man's eyes bulged wide at the sight of the weapon. "Did my wife send you? I swear I'm just doing this because I miss her terribly! I was thinking about her! I swear!"

Etta ignored the man and quickly positioned herself in a location that she expected would give her a clear vantage point of Newton once she ported back to her side.

She disappeared, leaving the stunned man staring at the spot where she had been a fraction of a second before, his mouth opened wide in disbelief. "No more masturbating for you mister!" He said to himself while gathering his clothes and getting out of the room as fast as he could.

* * *

In the blink of an eye, Etta found herself back in her room. Still immersed in almost total darkness, the dim light coming from the outside not enough to give a clear picture of her surroundings. Etta focused on the frequency responsible for the glimmer emitted by objects and persons from the Alternate Universe, as Donald had taught her. The aura around Newton lit him up like a Christmas tree. Etta smiled.

His back to her, the shapeshifter remained totally unaware of her presence. Etta squeezed off three shots, taking out both his knees and his right shoulder. Newton dropped to the floor, unable to stand. His gun slipped from his hand, unable to hold it.

Etta quickly kicked the weapon out of Newton's reach, then went to the night stand flicking the lamp on. Then she retreated keeping a cautious distance between them.

"You are able to keep track of Peter himself." She said, more a realization than a question. She kept her gun pointed at Newton's head.

The shapeshifter gave her a wry smile. "The Secretary has been tracking his son for quite some time."

"Of course he has."

"You can kill me. It won't make the slightest difference, I'm just a soldi..."

Etta fired before Newton could finish his sentence, one shot right between his eyes. "Yeah right, save me the speech." She reached for the door and headed out into the night.

* * *

Peter was woken from his slumber by a knock at the door. He got up wondering what Etta could want at that time of night. Sleep robbing him of caution, he opened the door and found himself taken aback by the man who stood in front of him. An exact replica of Walter. But then again, not quite.

This one was impeccably attired in a very expensive dark suit, something Peter knew this universes' Walter would never wear in a million years.

The man in front of him also transpired an air of authority that was almost intimidating. The perfect opposite of the Walter Peter had shared a home and worked with the last two years.

There was no need for introductions, he knew exactly whom this man was.

"Hello son," Walternate gave a slight smile. For the first time in a long while, Peter found himself at a loss for words. "Can I come in?" Peter stared dumbstruck at his biological father.

The man whom, if he was to believe the young girl that was sleeping in a room not so very far away, he should be wary of. But then again this was his real father, the one he had been stolen from as a child. Of everything that had happened that day, of all the things he had heard, this was the only thing he was certain of.

Peter nodded and gestured for Walternate to come inside. "What can I do for you?" Peter asked closing the door.

"I'm here to take you back home son," the older man said still grinning, but the smile hardly reached his eyes, which Peter found most disconcerting.

"If that is your wish of course," Walternate elaborated.

"You're giving me a choice, then?" Peter replied.

"Certainly. I would never dream of forcing you into anything. But I would really like you to come back with me. It would make your mother and myself very happy."

Peter's eyes widened. He hadn't given any thought about the possibility of his biological mother being alive.

"I know your... adoptive mother died a long time ago. I'm sorry for that, I know she had no part in your abduction. But _your_ mother is still alive Peter, and she is so looking forward to meeting you."

Peter sat down on the bed. The possibility of meeting his mother made his heart flutter. But Etta's words kept nagging him and his gut feeling agreed that things weren't as simple as they seemed.

Walternate sat by his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I went to great lengths to finally get to you son. I never gave up on finding you."

His father's words made something click in Peter's brain. He turned to Walternate looking him in the eyes. "Newton is with you."

"What?"

"The shapeshifters, you were the one who sent them."

Walternate stared back at Peter, the hint of his smile still lingering, but the eyes were cold. "As I said, I had to go to great lengths to get to you."

No denial. Everything Etta had told him about the shapeshifters was true. Peter felt his insides twist. "And that involves killing innocent people? One of those things... killed a friend of mine, a man who had no part in my kidnapping. Not to mention all the others, they had nothing to do with this mess. For what? To get to me? Why not just use one of those things to contact me? There was no need to kill anyone."

"I'm sorry about your friend Peter, but this is not just about you. Since that man that crossed over for the first time, to kidnap you, our side began experiencing destructive events. Vortices opened threatening to tear the very fabric of our universe. Millions of people on our side have died because of him. Entire city blocks are encased in Amber, our last, our only way to contain the vortices. And all of it was triggered by the actions of people on this side."

"So you've decided that payback is in order."

"We have to defend ourselves." Walter said, a note of incredulity creeping into his voice.

Peter gave a wry smile. "That's why you want me to go with you. You need me to activate the machine to destroy this side." And there it was. Walternate flinched; a micro expression visible for only a fraction of a second. He quickly tried to mask it with his faked smile. But it was enough for Peter. Once again, Etta was right.

Peter felt sick to his stomach. What _his_ Walter had done was nothing compared to what this man was apparently capable of.

_Olivia_. His mind drifted to the blond agent. Etta had been right about his father. That also meant that what she had told him about what would happen to Olivia if he crossed over was true.

He absolutely wouldn't go with his biological father to the Alternate Universe. He could not put Olivia in danger. Peter felt a sudden urge to go back to Boston to see her again, to make sure she was ok.

The older man stood abruptly, bringing Peter back to the situation at hand. "I'm sorry you see things that way son. I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this," Walternate went for his jacket pocket, pulling out a small gun which he pointed it at Peter.

"What..." was all that Peter was able to say before Walternate shot him. Peter looked at his leg astonished, a small dart embedded into the flesh of his left thigh.

Three shots rang out, fairly close by, definitely somewhere within the motel complex. "Etta..." Peter tried hard to stay awake, "what have you..." he managed before the effects of the drug took hold and he slowly slumped onto the bed where he'd been sitting, fully unconscious.

Walternate grabbed Peter by the armpits, lifting him up and keeping him close to his body, supporting his weight in his embrace. He reached for the other pocket taking out a small device.

Another shot rang out. Walternate knew Newton used a suppressor on his weapon, those shots hadn't been fired by him. He had to move quickly.

He pressed a few buttons and in seconds white light enveloped the room. When the light dissipated, both men had disappeared.

* * *

Etta ran as fast as she could. By now, several guests had been roused from their beds and had come outside unable to supress their curiosity having heard gunshots. Newton's had a silencer. She cursed for not using one herself. It was then that she realized she was running past everybody with a firearm in hand. "She's got a gun!" Etta heard someone shout.

_'Damn it,'_ she thought, but this was no time to worry about being so overtly conspicuous.

She approached Peter's room, caution thrown to the wind. Just as she was about to kick the door open, a bright light flashed through the room's window.

"Shit!" Etta spat. She froze watching as the light died away much more gradually than it had appeared. A wave of adrenaline coursed through her body, driving her into action. Etta kicked the door open. As she had expected the room was now empty. Out of habit she checked the bathroom and again, there was no one there. She focused and crossed over once again to the Other Side. The room in the Alternate Universe was dark. She reached for the light switch, flicking it on she saw that the room was vacant, it was clear that no one had been there. She went for the door and found it locked. She fumbled with the latch mechanism, unlocked it and ran towards the parking lot in front of the motel.

A few cars were parked there, but she could see nothing moving, everything was silent. She ran towards the road and looked in both directions. There was nothing. No vehicles and no people. Absolutely no sign of Peter.

_'No, no, no!'_

Etta knelt on the floor and ran her hands through her hair. She knew what had happened. Walternate had successfully crossed with Peter over to his home universe. She remembered what Donald had taught her; that the Other Side's technology not only allowed them to cross between dimensions, but also to simultaneously travel through space. They must have crossed over directly to the DoD headquarters on Liberty Island, New York. Thousands of miles now separated them.

It remained to be seen, however, if Peter had gone willingly.

Donald and Astrid had warned her that Walternate was a very resourceful and driven man. He would not give up until he had Peter with him, to enable him to achieve his goals. The man would take Peter with him no matter what circumstances faced him and he would be more than willing to use force if necessary.

Etta was sure she had got through to Peter. At the very least, placed doubts in his mind about his biological father's intentions. If that didn't do it, she felt certain that the things she had told him would happen to Olivia if he crossed, would ensure that he wouldn't take that risk. Therefore Walternate must have taken Peter against his will.

Etta wondered if Olivia would still cross over to the Other Side to get Peter back, and if that would still lead to her capture and the switch with her alternate. Etta's presence in the erased timeline had already slightly changed the chain of events. There was no telling what might happen next.

She knew that there was only one thing left to do. She had to figure out a way to get Peter back as soon as possible and to make sure Olivia wouldn't go after him.

Etta got up and went once more to the equivalent of her room on that side. She hoped the horny guy would be asleep, or perhaps not there at all after the stunt she'd had pulled a few moments ago. She reached for the door and found it unlocked, the room was now vacant. She closed the door and crossed over again to her home Universe. It was the fifth crossing she'd performed that day and it was starting to take a toll on her body. She had to sit down on her bed, exhaustion taking over.

Etta heard a babble of voices coming from the outside, blue and red lights flashing through the window. She made an effort to get up, almost tripping over Newton's body that was laying on the ground, a pool of liquid mercury still forming around the shapeshifter's head.

Etta peeked through the window. Two vehicles with bars of flashing blue and red lights on the rooves were parked just in front of the reception. A group of people had gathered around the entrance to Peter's room. Among them, four uniformed men, no doubt law-enforcement agents, were talking with the clerk who had checked them in.

Etta looked back at Newton's body. That was going to be hard to explain.

She quickly grabbed her duffel bag and backpack and quietly got out of the room. At pains to act as casually as she could, she approached her car. She made it without attracting attention, she unlocked the door and threw her luggage to the backseat.

"Hey, that's her!" she heard someone shout. All eyes turned to Etta. Without hesitation, she slid into the driver's seat and drove off as fast as she could. She turned right leaving the motel and the small town behind her.

The two law-enforcement vehicles soon came in pursuit. The road leading in and out of town didn't leave many options open to Etta, with sweeping bends curving right then left, always with dense forest on both sides. She had no choice but to keep going.

She finally reached a section of the road that extended in a straight line for a few miles. The light of the full moon gave her mild visibility and the chance to spot possible intersections, where she hoped to turn to try to shake her pursuers. The few she had come across were narrow tracks, and had been easy to miss due to the sinuous route.

Etta spotted an intersection ahead. She made a sudden left turn when she reached it. She prayed that there would be another intersection available before the lawmen would be on her tail.

No such luck.

Etta kept driving fast, manically looking for an escape. She spotted what appeared to be a crossroad ahead of her and turned left again. Immediately after, the road made a sharp turn to the right. Etta had to apply all her driving skills to prevent the car from skidding from the road. After the turn, another intersection. This was all that she needed to shake of her tail. She turned the car again to the left, taking the new road.

But luck wanted nothing with her that night. Soon after, she heard the sirens and saw the lights of a chasing police vehicle. At least it appeared that just one of them had made it. She kept her attention on the road, only one more pursuer to shake.

Etta drove a few miles not encountering any other intersections or crossroads, until up ahead she was confronted with a sight that made her blood run cold. Another police vehicle stood straddling the lanes, blocking the road. She had fallen into a trap. With forest on both sides of the road there was no escape.

But then again, maybe there was.

The two deputies blocking the road had their guns directed toward the escaping vehicle. It was approaching them without any hint of slowing down. They adjusted their stances, making ready to fire.

They were about to, when something happened that seemed have to come out of a sci-fi movie. The car disappeared in front of their eyes.

The other police vehicle arrived soon after. The four officers gathered around the spot where Etta's car had been only a few moments before. They looked at each other. They stood silent without comprehending what had just happened in front of their eyes. Deputy McNichol was the first to speak. "What the fuck are we going to write on the report?"

The youngest of them all, Deputy Stevens replied to his colleague "We could say that we were chasing a DeLorean and that it went back to the future."

* * *

Walternate blinked rapidly, trying to gather his bearings. His strange perspective of the room told him he was flat on his back and the discomfort suggested he was currently laying on a gurney. He slowly and cautiously looked around, confirming they had successfully crossed over to their destination, and were now at the DoD Headquarters on Liberty Island.

Walternate tried to get up, but the moment he lifted his head, he felt that his insides where about to come out through his mouth. Another sign that they had indeed crossed over to his universe.

"Sir, please you have to remain still," Brandon pleaded, trying to keep the Secretary on his gurney. "You're very week from the crossings."

"You'll attend to me later, Brandon. There are more pressing matters I must take care of immediately." Walternate took a few seconds, breathing deeply to prepare and steady himself, completely ignoring Brandon's protests he got himself up. Stumbling slightly he leant on his IV stand which he wheeled along with him, immediately making for the gurney where Peter lay, unmoving and still unconscious.

"Wake him up," Walternate ordered the technician just as he finished adjusting the medication in Peter's IV.

"But Sir, that's dangerous..."

"I'm not asking your opinion, I'm ordering you," Walternate interrupted the assistant, leaving no space for further questioning.

The technician exchanged looks with Brandon, who nodded, encouraging him to obey the Secretary. The young man inserted a syringe in Peter's IV. Walternate observed as the liquid made his way through the tube that connected the IV to Peter's arm. "Now give him 10ccs of bimiopental hydrochloride" the Secretary ordered.

The assistant exchanged looks once again with Brandon, but went to get the drug without further comment. He took out a second syringe from the medicine cabinet, drew the requested dose of the drug and flushed it into the IV.

"Leave us," Walternate ordered the assistant. The young man did so at a hurried pace, closing the door behind him.

Brandon stepped closer to Walternate. "Sir, why the need for an obedience drug?"

"I had to bring Peter back unwillingly. He knows about the machine and what we intend to do with it."

"But... that's impossible!"

"Apparently not. We may have an infiltrated agent in our midst. It is of the utmost importance that we learn immediately what the other side knows about our plans and how they learned about it."

At that moment Peter moaned. His eyes fluttered, then opened and he jolted, trying to sit up. Walternate put a hand on his shoulder, making him stay on the gurney.

"Where... where am I?"

"Lay down Son, you need to rest."

"Walter?" Peter stared at the Secretary, blinking several times and squinting his eyes, trying to focus, then in slurred speech he asked, "Where are we?"

"It's not important." Walternate gently patted Peter's shoulder. He knew his son was confused and probably thinking he was speaking with the other Walter. "Tell me son what do you know about the machine?"

"What machine?"

"The machine your biological father is assembling."

"Oh, that machine," Peter said with a sleepy sigh. "Only what Etta told me."

"Who is Etta?"

"My daughter," Peter let out a chuckle.

Walternate and Brandon exchange looks. "These are not the ideal conditions to administer the obedience drug Sir," Brandon whispered. "In combination with the medicine he already received to treat the side effects of crossing over, it's impossible to know if what he is saying is really the truth or if he's simply delusional due to chemical psychosis."

Ignoring him Walternate turned back to Peter and pressed on with his questioning, "What did she tell you about the machine?"

"She told me that my biological father needs me to power it up so he can destroy our side. He is a bad person and not to be trusted." Peter made a disgusted face and waved his index finger in front of him, as if to ward away the spectre of the man he was speaking of.

The Secretary clenched his jaw incensed. "Did Etta say how she knows all of this?"

"Yes. She's from the future. For her this already happened. Crazy isn't it?" Peter chuckled again. "She seems a nice girl though, guess I'll do a decent job raising her." He gave a goofy grin.

Once again Walternate looked at Brandon who shrugged his shoulders.

Just as the Secretary was about to speak again, a sharp pain struck to the left side of his forehead making him grimace. The pain made him feel nauseous. He bent over supporting himself in Peter's gurney trying hard not to vomit.

"Sir you need to return to your gurney immediately. I have to administer the treatment."

Walternate raised his hand halting Brandon. He took a few deep breaths and raised himself upright, once again he turned to Peter. "Son, who else knows about the machine?"

Peter closed his eyes and grimaced. "Walter I'm tired, let me go to sleep."

"Of course son, just a few more questions, then you can sleep." Walternate said trying hard to control his voice against his own discomfort and irritation. "Now tell me if anyone else knows about the machine?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so, Etta's been with me since she arrived this afternoon. She hasn't talked with anyone else."

"So you only learned about the machine and your biological father's intentions this afternoon through Etta?"

"Yes."

"Very good Son. You can sleep now."

"Thanks Walter." Peter turned his head to the side and closed his eyes once again. Within a few seconds he was unconscious.

The Secretary turned to Brandon, "Give Peter 5ccs of driloxidhe and 2.5ccs of eliothynol then suspend all other treatment for six hours."

"Sir you want him to lose his recent memories? Doing that while in treatment and after taking an obedience drug is..."

"That's why you have to wait for six hours," Walternate said issuing Brandon with a stern look. Having to explain is actions to his subordinates was something he was never fond of, and now his patience was at its very limits. "Monitor him closely during that time. If his vitals remain stable, you can resume his treatment after the six hour period is over. However, you are to resume treatment immediately if he shows any signs of distressed vitals."

Brandon nodded his assent, "Yes, Sir. Now please, I will take care of everything as soon as I have administered your treatment."

"In a moment. There's one more thing I need you to do."

Brandon nodded.

"Contact our agents on the Other Side immediately after you finish here. I'm afraid Newton has been compromised or eliminated. They are to look for the young blond girl in her early twenties who was traveling with my son. Her name his Etta, possibly short for Henrietta, and she is to be considered very dangerous. Detain her at all costs, but I need her alive".

"Yes Sir." Brandon nodded once again, relieved to see that at last, the secretary move back to his gurney. Brandon prepared the treatment while the Secretary slumped heavily into the mattress, giving into his exhaustion only now he'd set his agenda in motion.

After finishing administering the necessary drugs, Brandon went to the medicine cabinet and retrieved the drugs his boss ordered for his son. He pumped them into Peter's IV. "You're in for the surprise of your life when you wake up, pal." Then his mouth formed a malicious smile and he added, "If you wake up at all."

* * *

**A/N Here it is, the second chapter of the second part. If you found it a bit confusing just drop me a pm or a review.  
I'll be glad to clarify any doubts.  
Once again it wouldn't have been possible without Crys. Thanks for all your improvements mate.**  
**I have a feeling this season will be the one for LFC, you'll see :)  
****Hope everyone enjoys it!**


	15. Where is Peter Bishop?

**Chapter 15 – Where is Peter Bishop?**

Olivia clenched the steering wheel of the vehicle till her knuckles whitened as she drove at speed along the near deserted road.

Broyles had arranged the car for her and was available at their arrival at an airfield not far from Portland. Thanks to his connections with Homeland Security, he'd not only arranged the car but also chartered the airplane that had taken her and Walter from Boston to Portland. On a commercial flight they would have only been able to make it to Noyo County the following day, that was, if they were lucky enough to get last minute tickets. Because of Broyles however, they would arrive no later than 11pm on the same day that he had told her about Peter's location.

At the current velocity Olivia was driving, they would make it to the Sheriff's office by 10:30pm.

Walter had been unusually quiet since they had boarded the plane. However occasional bouts of restless fidgeting, along with the look on his face and the way his hands shook, were enough for Olivia to know precisely how anxious he was. Walter had never been good at hiding how he felt, she guessed he often didn't even make an effort. Under the current conditions, she totally understood.

Unlike Walter, Olivia excelled at concealing her emotions. Right then she was doing a decent job of hiding the turmoil raging inside her, except for the death grip she had on the wheel.

She hoped they would get to Peter before he would leave and anxious to know if he would forgive her for hiding the truth from him. Most of all she was afraid he would refuse to come back to Boston with them, or more precisely that he would shy away from _her_.

She was hurt and worried because he left without saying goodbye. Scared that she would never get the chance to see him again.

Olivia also hoped that Walter would give her a chance to speak to Peter alone.

Since they had left Boston, she had run through everything she wanted to say to him in her head over and over again. But no matter what she thought of, nothing seemed appropriate. She pondered on pouring her heart out to him and confessing to Peter how she really felt about him.

But she was afraid he would think that she would only be saying what he wanted to hear, that it was nothing more than trickery, a cheap attempt designed to achieve nothing more than luring him back to Boston. The same way she had blackmailed him when they first met in Baghdad, leading him to believe that the FBI had a file about him.

Peter had warmed considerably since then. Though in the first instance his bitterness and cold aloofness was clear to see. She feared that this revelation would pitch him back to such a state permanently. In that kind of frame of mind he might easily interpret her actions and anything she could say as worthless deception.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Olivia had come to terms about her feelings towards Peter Bishop for a while. The 'non' date after Jacksonville was supposed to had been the first step towards a possible relationship with him and typically, like so many things in her personal life, it turned out to be a disaster. Even indirectly, it had only lead to distance growing between them, as this secret had the power to drive a wedge between them.

And that was all on her. The way she had dealt with Walter's secret only made things worse. She should have told Peter as soon as she had found out, then maybe he wouldn't have run. Maybe he would have stayed for her.

"Do you think Peter will still be there?" Walter's question brought her back from her thoughts.

Olivia looked at the old scientist. "I think he will Walter. I talked to Broyles when we arrived, he's been in touch with the local Sheriff. Peter was with them all day helping with an investigation."

"I see," Walter nodded.

"We'll be there in about 15 minutes Walter, the Sheriff is waiting for us." Olivia gave him the best, most comforting smile she could muster.

Walter nodded again without saying a word. He turned his attention down to his coat and started fidgeting nervously with his buttons.

It broke Olivia's heart to see the old scientist so lost and sad. She hoped Peter would give Walter a chance to explain the circumstances and reasons behind his abduction.

* * *

Just as Olivia had predicted, a quarter of an hour later they entered the Sheriff's office in Noyo County. She flashed her badge at the receptionist, who directed her to the Sheriff.

"Sheriff Mathis?" Olivia extended her hand to the short haired woman.

"You must be Agent Dunham." Mathis shook the FBI's agent's hand.

"That's correct. And this is Dr. Walter Bishop"

"Oh, Peter's father. Very nice to meet you." She extended her hand to Walter.

"You saw Peter, Sheriff Mathis?" Walter asked shaking Ann's hand. Olivia noticed his shining eyes.

"Yes, he's been with us these last few days helping with a case," the Sheriff answered while Walter kept hold of her hand.

Olivia moved closer and gently placed a hand on Walter's arm, silently encouraging him to release the Sheriff's hand. "Is he still around?" Olivia asked, shifting the Sheriff's attention from Walter's prolonged handshake.

"As far as I know yes, I dropped him at his motel at about 5:30pm. I can drive you out there, if you'd like?"

"That would be excellent!" Walter clapped his hands and headed out for the exit.

Ann frowned at Olivia.

"He's a bit anxious to see Peter," Olivia explained as she gave an apologetic shrug. Outside, she could see Walter striding enthusiastically towards their vehicle at pace. She shook her head, smiling at his excitement and hoping it wouldn't turn into disappointment.

Olivia turned her attention back to Ann. "Sheriff Mathis I appreciate your offer to drive us, but there's no need. If you can give me directions to the motel, I'll drive there myself. I know you had a tough case today."

"Don't worry about it," Ann said waving her hand, "You're a friend of Peter's, so it's the least I can do."

Olivia smiled at her and nodded as a thank you gesture. "My Boss told me you were investigating a serial killer?" Olivia asked as they walked towards the exit.

"Yes and a creepy one at that. We hadn't a single murder in the county in years and all of a sudden people start dropping dead, left and right. Imagine how the folks around here reacted Agent Dunham."

"Believe me, I can imagine."

"Seemed to be right up Peter's alley though. He was pretty unfazed by the whole thing. Which made me wonder what kind of weird cases you guys investigate," the Sheriff mused, only half-heartedly fishing, though she picked up on a vibe which said she shouldn't expect any kind of information. "He was very secretive about it."

As she suspected would be the case, Olivia merely nodded and offered no information. The Sheriff quirked an eyebrow. "Like you are now," she mumbled to herself as she started walking towards the door.

Just as Ann reached for the handle, however, Olivia extended her arm, stopping the door from being opened and preventing the Sheriff from exiting.

Startled by Oliva's sudden action, the Sheriff stared at her. Olivia's attention however seemed to be focused beyond the window, on Walter. The old scientist was pacing back and forth near their car. Still without looking directly at her, Olivia's asked, "How was Peter?"

Ann took a few seconds before answering, only then did Olivia's attention shift back to her. "I imagine you're referring to his state of mind." the Sheriff said eyeing Olivia, still trying to get a handle on the Agent, who radiated quiet intensity. Her silence gave Ann silent confirmation of her question. "Generally speaking he was ok, but he also seemed... lost. If you ask me, he seemed like a man running away from something or perhaps someone. He had the look of someone trying to find himself, or where he belonged."

Olivia lowered her gaze, suddenly looking dejected. She took her arm from the door, but Ann made no motion to leave. "Peter saved my partner's life and God knows how many more people that son of a bitch would wave killed if Peter hadn't helped us. Without him we would never have got to him so fast. He is a good investigator, and strikes me as a good person. I hope everything turns out ok for him."

Olivia nodded slightly. "I hope so too."

Ann gave her a small smile. "Let's go then." She opened the door and together they walked out of the Sheriff's office.

They drove to the Northwest Passage motel in the Sheriff's vehicle. The three occupants remained silent. Ann had informed them that it was a short drive, it was a small town after all.

Walter leaned forward from the backseat, peaking his head between both women. "Sheriff, if you don't mind me asking, how did Peter become involved in your investigation?"

Olivia looked at the old scientist, a bit surprised by his lucidity. It was remarkable how he was handling himself after what had happened earlier that day in the supermarket.

"Actually he was a suspect in the beginning, but to be fair he was the one who approached us."

"Why was he a suspect?" Olivia frowned at the Sheriff's answer.

"Because he had a date with the first victim."

Olivia felt her insides twist; Peter had a date. He had already moved on, forgotten about her, about _them_. But honestly what was there to forget? There had never been a _them_. Nothing had ever happened between her and Peter and it was all _her_ fault. He was free to date whomever he wanted and it was none of her business.

Olivia was slowly drawn back from her troubling thoughts by the Sheriff, who had continued with her answer. "...but Krista never showed up and we were able to determine that Peter had never left his motel. He actually fell asleep waiting for her in the motel's lobby." Ann added looking back at the road.

'_In his motel. They were going to meet in his motel_' the lump in Olivia's throat made it hard to swallow. The implications of what she had just heard hit hard. Her brain was trying in vain to shut off the jealousy blooming inside her; she had no right to feel so jealous.

Nevertheless, she started to feel unsure of what she was doing miles from her home running after someone who had clearly made the decision to move on with his life.

"But how did Peter transition from a suspect to assisting in the investigation? Was there something particular about the case that raised his interest?" Walter's question dragged Olivia back again from her inner turmoil. At this moment in time, Walter seemed to have much better control over his emotions then she did. Olivia scrubbed a hand through her hair trying to get her head back in the game.

"Yes, the killer's MO. Peter told us he had worked on a similar case before. When we found out he worked with the FBI and once your boss vouched for him, we gladly accepted his expertise."

That caught Olivia's attention, causing her Agent persona to take over. She pushed her feelings to the back of her brain, she would deal with them later. "A similar case?" Olivia prompted, narrowing her eyes at the Sheriff.

"The killer removed pieces of the victim's temporal lobe. Peter stated that in one of his past cases, the victims also had small parts of the temporal lobe removed, but that the people responsible were never caught. He was actually convinced that it was the same guy; Newton he said. He thought he might be using this to get Peter's attention …for some reason. Apparently, in the case Peter investigated, the killer was able to extract information from the victim's temporal lobe?" Ann turned to Olivia for confirmation.

Olivia gave a small nod, seeing no reason not to verify the case details, not when Peter had already disclosed the information to the Sheriff.

"Wow, you guys really do work in weird cases." Ann shook her head.

"But was Newton really involved?" Olivia asked, her curiosity spiking.

"Nope, it turned out to be a local fellow, not related with your guy in any manner. Peter was even a bit... disappointed, so to speak, when we got our guy. He was convinced that it was Newton behind the killings. He even swore that he'd seen him in the woods and while we were at the first crime scene."

"Peter saw Newton?" Olivia's heart raced at the Sheriff's statement.

"He said he did." Ann shrugged.

"Oh dear," Walter muttered, and sagged back into his seat, his trembling hand coming up to cover his mouth.

"But you're not so sure Newton was there?" Olivia looked sharply at Ann.

Olivia could see the doubt in the Sheriff's expression when her eyes drifted back to meet hers. "Peter was the only one who saw him on both occasions. The second time Peter spotted him, he was with me in the woods and I didn't see anyone. We searched for the guy but we couldn't find anyone else that might have seen him, or any indications that there had been someone else there."

"So you're suggesting that Peter was... hallucinating?"

Ann let out a sigh. "I really don't know if he was or not Agent Dunham. Peter believed he saw him. But the fact is that we never found any evidence that this guy Newton was here. And he definitely wasn't connected to the murders. Maybe Peter saw what he wanted to see," the Sheriff said with a shrug.

"Well, you'll be able to ask him about it yourself in a moment," Ann said as she swung into the motel's parking lot, and parked her vehicle just outside the reception.

The Sheriff soon obtained Peter's room number from the clerk, and they headed inside to find his room. They knocked several times, but no one answered.

"Maybe he already left," Olivia said. Walter's shoulders slumped.

"I think I saw his car in the parking lot," Ann stated. "Wait here, I'll be back in a second."

Within a couple of minutes the Sheriff returned, this time with a key, she knocked one more time then placed the key in the lock. "Peter, it's Sheriff Mathis, I'm coming in." she announced, then opened the door. Finding the room dark she fumbled inside for the light.

The room was vacant and from the looks of the place no one had slept there. Mathis frowned. "His car is in the parking lot and the clerk confirmed that Peter didn't check out. He said he saw Peter come in and as far as he was aware he didn't go back out, but he did say that the motel has two other exits, so Peter could have left without passing reception," Ann said looking around the room.  
Olivia nodded. She quickly checked the room, looking for possible clues that could lead them to Peter's whereabouts. Ann joined her, opening and closing drawers.

Olivia opened the doors of a small closet, finding a travel bag inside. She opened the bag and found a change of clothes and some basic toiletries. Ann approached Olivia and took a peek at the bag, they exchanged looks without saying anything. Both women knew what it meant, either Peter was out for a walk or he had left in a hurry leaving his scarce possessions behind. Olivia closed the bag. A bad feeling nagged her, telling her that somehow the second option seemed more likely.

Walter approached Olivia touching her arm gently "Olivia, do you think that Newton was here? May he have intercepted Peter?" his voice was low with concern, almost at a whisper.

Olivia looked at the old man, his lower lip trembled and he kept his head down. He looked like an abandoned child. Olivia felt her stomach knot, she was afraid too. But as always, she worked to hide it. "Maybe he just went out for a walk or a drink. I'm sure he's ok Walter." Olivia put her hand on Walter's shoulder, feeling the need to comfort him, though short of finding Peter, everything else would be inadequate. Perhaps the old scientist understood, he nodded and gave her a sad smile.

"I don't think we'll find anything else here," Ann said as she exited the bathroom.

Olivia nodded. The Sheriff's assessment was correct, there was nothing in the room that could lead them to Peter. "I think I saw a surveillance camera in the corridor," Olivia said as she walked passed the Sheriff, exiting the room. Ann joined her outside confirming at a glance that there was indeed a camera which should give them footage of the corridor and of the door to Peter's room.

* * *

A few minutes later Olivia and Ann had taken up residence in the small office behind the reception desk. They had access to the surveillance recordings and were currently searching through the stored footage. The clerk had given them a quick explanation on how to operate the software and which camera each of the feeds came from, he also alerted them to the fact that some cameras were offline due to lack of maintenance. Then he left them alone.

Walter had said he would like to stay in the room, in case Peter came back.

They started with the camera covering Peter's room. They scanned through the recording looking for activity. It didn't take long until they came across a footage of a man, first approaching Peter's door and soon after breaking in, having demonstrated noteworthy lock picking skills. Olivia had slowed the recording to real time, then rewound and froze the image, having found a clear picture of the man's face. It was Newton, confirming Peter's suspicions that the man was indeed in the area.

Olivia ran a hand through her hair. The bad feeling she had experienced back in Peter's room when she found the bag with his clothes, increased exponentially, worming its way through her gut.

"Who is that?" Ann asked indicating the frozen display.

"Newton," Olivia said, the name falling icily from her lips.

Ann swallowed hard and clenched her jaw. "So, Peter was right."

Olivia nodded silently. Then she resumed the playback. For a few moments nothing further happened, but what she saw a few minutes ahead in the footage took her completely by surprise. It also made her blood run cold.

She saw Walter wearing an immaculate suit enter the frame. He confidently strode up the corridor and soon came to a stop at Peter's door.

"Isn't that Dr. Bishop?" Ann asked, somewhat perplexed.

Olivia swallowed unable to speak.

"Agent Dunham?" The Sheriff prompted, a little concerned at Olivia's obvious shock. She touched Olivia's arm gently.

The blond Agent made an effort to regain some composure, inhaling deeply, but still she found an explanation hard to formulate, "I... It's... it looks like him, but that's not our Dr. Bishop"

Ann frowned at Olivia's answer, clearly puzzled by it. Still, she didn't make any further comment. Olivia resumed the playback. 'Walter' entered the room when Newton opened the door to him, then there was nothing for about an hour, at which point Walternate and Newton left the room, and walked out of shot.

Olivia searched at speed through the remaining video until they caught up to the present, with their arrival. Peter was a no-show. "I'm going to switch to the camera covering the parking lot. I want to see the footage around the same time Newton and… the other man leave Peter's room," Olivia said, clicking a few icons to switch to the other feed, then she typed in the specified time to begin playback.

A few minutes after leaving the room, Newton and Walternate were seen advancing towards a navy-blue sedan and entering it. Olivia froze the image and picked up her phone "This is Agent Olivia Dunham from the Boston field office." Olivia gave her badge number, "Seven-Eighteen-Six-Twenty-Two-Seven-Nine," she waited a few seconds for the dispatch operator to confirm her identity then continued, "I would like to issue a BOLO for a vehicle. Washington State plate 378-ZXY. It's a navy blue Chrysler 300." She nodded as she listened. "Correct. Last seen a few hours ago at the Northwest Passage Motel in Noyo County WA, with two occupants. One of them is a wanted felon, named Thomas Jerome Newton. He is very dangerous and should be approached with extreme caution," She paused while her request was confirmed. "Thank you." She hung up and ran both hands through her hair.

Ann put her hand gently on Olivia's shoulder "I... I'm sorry Agent Dunham. Peter was right about this fellow Newton and I ignored him."

Olivia turned to the Sheriff and shook her head slightly "You don't have to be sorry Sheriff. This isn't your fault. You had your hands full with a serial killer. This Newton business... you had no way to know he was really here. This is not your ordinary criminal we're talking about."

Ann nodded and took her hand from Olivia's shoulder. "I'm going to call my people to be on the lookout for that vehicle and for Newton."

"Thank you," Olivia said with a tired smile.

While Ann made the call, Olivia resumed screening the surveillance footage for any sign of Peter. The only time they had been able to find him was when Ann had dropped him off at the motel at about 5.30pm. He crossed the parking lot and entered through the main entrance. After that, there was nothing.

After more than half an hour of searching through available footage, frustration and fatigue was starting to show on Olivia by the way she massaged her brow with increasing frequency and how she looked ever more strained and tense on her seat.

"Let's try something else," Ann suggested noticing how restless Olivia was becoming. "Instead of following the cameras that cover Peter's path to his room, let's try the other available cameras. He must have altered his course somewhere, because it's clear he never made it to his room."

Olivia nodded and shrugged, it couldn't hurt to check. After a few minutes of searching, Ann placed her hand over Olivia's, stopping the playback. "Wait!"

"You saw something?" Olivia looked at the Sheriff and then back at the screen.

"Rewind a bit until we see the blond girl, she was sitting near the vending machine." Olivia did as Ann asked. "Look at the time stamp," the Sheriff said, "This is around the time I dropped Peter off. And more interestingly, the girl gets up and moves in the direction that Peter would have taken from the parking lot to his room."

Olivia froze the image, taking a good look and the young woman. There was something familiar about her; what exactly, Olivia couldn't put her finger on. "I have no idea who she is," she said, though something continued to nag at her. She frowned looking at the still image.

"Let's try following her," Ann suggested. They watched the young woman disappear from the camera's scope without reappearing in range of any other. "She must be in the area supposed to be covered by one of the offline cameras. That's most likely why we can't see Peter either," Ann sighed.

Olivia nodded at the Sheriff's assessment. "Let me check something." She picked up the blueprint of the motel with the surveillance cameras locations, which the reception clerk had provided. "Let's try this one", Olivia tapped the point on the plan, where a camera was positioned to show the area just before a marked emergency exit. "They may have exited through here."

Ann nodded. "It leads to the back of the motel, away for the parking lot. Since we couldn't find anything else on the parking lot footage it stands to reason that Peter probably took this exit. Let's hope this camera was online."

Olivia clicked a few times and successfully accessed the footage from the camera she required. But to Olivia's dismay, the angle of the camera was not the best, only giving a partial view of the corridor. She huffed frustrated.

"Keep it rolling," Ann said, "if the girl was waiting for Peter they may have stopped to talk for a while before leaving."

Olivia resumed the playback. She bit her lower lip, anxiety and frustration flushing through her.

Until Peter showed up. Her heart raced at seeing him. "You were right," she smiled at the Sheriff. Right besides Peter, there was the mysterious young woman. She let the footage play until they disappeared from the camera scope.

"Could she be someone from Peter's past or maybe a relative?" Ann asked.

"It's a possibility," Olivia admitted. Peter's history was chequered to put it kindly, he didn't talk much about it so there was still much that she didn't know about him. Olivia shook her head however, despite the niggling sense of recognition, she knew with absolute certainty that she hadn't crossed paths with this woman before. "But like I said before, I don't know who she is."

Olivia rewound the footage until she found the best view of the young woman's face, then she froze the image and printed it. They left the small office and went back to the reception to speak with the desk clerk. "Did you see this woman?" Olivia asked sliding the picture of the young woman across the desk to him.

The clerk took a quick look at the picture and returned it to Olivia. "Yeah, I recognize her, she rented a room for one night." He consulted the computer clicking through his records to find the information. "Anne White. Room forty five. She used a credit card to pay for the room, she had a matching driver's licence to back it up."

Olivia and Ann exchanged looks. Olivia turned her attention back to the young man at the reception. "I'll need the credit card number." The clerk looked dubious, unsure of his position in supplying the information. "Is that going to be a problem Tim?" the Sheriff asked raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an austere look.

"Err... No, of course not. I'll get it for you," the young man said with an awkward smile. He punched a few keys in the computer and wrote down the credit card number on a piece of paper, handing it to Olivia.

"Could you show me where her room is?" Olivia asked the clerk laying out the blueprint of the motel in front of him.

"Here." The clerk pointed at a section of the blueprint.

"It's on the way to the exit they must have used." Ann said staring at the blueprint.

The FBI Agent turned again to the clerk "We're going to need a key to that room too."

* * *

The inside of the room was almost like Peter's had been; no one was there and the bed hadn't been used. The only difference was that there were no personal belongings left behind. They had nothing that could lead them to the girl's whereabouts, let alone reveal her connection to Peter.

Olivia called Astrid explaining what they had found out about Peter. She sent an image of the girl and asked for help tracking the credit card. It only took a few moments for Astrid to call back revealing that the credit card was linked to an account that had been dormant for several months. She informed Olivia that there was an Anne White on the DMV system, but that she didn't match the girl's description.

Olivia and Ann where just about to leave when Astrid called again. "I've found something else," she said from the other end of the line.

"What?" Olivia asked stopping in the middle of the corridor. Ann stopped her motion and listened to one half of the conversation.

"The same credit card was used at Al's Affordable Autos this afternoon, a car dealer in Noyo County"

"Thanks, and sorry again for getting you out of bed."

"It's no problem Olivia. I'll be on the lookout for any more leads concerning this 'Ann White'. If you need anything else call me."

"Thank you Astrid."

Olivia passed on the information to the Sheriff, who set about tracking down the owner of the car dealership, while Olivia rented a room for Walter and took time encouraging him to get some sleep.

"The dealer's going to meet us at the car lot, he should be there soon after us if we set off now." Mathis informed Olivia on her return.

* * *

In less then 15 minutes, both women were at the car dealership waiting for the owner. They only had to wait another five for him to joined them.

It only took a quick look at the records to reveal that the girl had purchased a silver 99' Buick with the license plate 165-ARW. He also confirmed that she was with a man that fit Peter's description.

Olivia called Astrid once again informing her about the vehicle the young girl had purchased. Astrid immediately requested a BOLO on the vehicle. After that, Ann and Olivia drove back to the Sheriff's office where Olivia had left her car. They decided to call it a day and resume the search for Peter and the mysterious young woman in the morning.

Olivia was getting out of Ann's car when her phone rang again. Astrid was on the other end of the line "Olivia, there's been a development. You issued a BOLO for a navy blue Chrysler 300 with the license plate 378-ZXY?"

"Yes" Olivia frowned, surprised by Astrid's question.

"The car was found at a parking lot of the Northern Star Motel in Roverville, Graytree County. It's not very far from where you are."

"And Newton and the other Walter, any sign of them?"

"There was a body found on one of the rooms, it matches Newton's description. Local authorities report that the body bled mercury, so I think it's safe to assume that it must be him."

"I see. And the other Walter?"

"Nothing, no reports."

"Ok, thanks Astrid. For everything."

"There's something else Olivia. The local authorities are in pursuit of a suspect related to the body found at the motel, a female in her early 20's, blonde. She was reported to be driving your silver Buick."

Olivia felt her stomach sink. What had Peter got himself into? Who the hell was this young woman?

"There's no report about anyone resembling Peter," Astrid added, anticipating Olivia's question.

"Ok Astrid. I'm on my way there. You get some sleep, you've already done more than enough."

"If you need anything else just call me, Olivia."

"Ok Astrid. Thank you again."

"You found a lead?" The Sheriff asked, having payed attention to Olivia's phone call.

"Newton's body was found on a motel in Roverville, Graytree County and also the vehicle he was driving. The local authorities are pursuing a suspect. Apparently it's the same woman Peter was with. Same car too, but no reports about Walter's doppelgänger, nor Peter."

The Sheriff stood in silence for a few seconds, evaluating the situation. "Let's go then," she said finally, opening the driver's door once more. She motioned for Olivia to join her.

"Sheriff Mathis I can't ask you to go with me. You already done so much."

"Agent Dunham, the sheriff of Graytree County is a friend of mine. Besides it would take you at least 3 to 4 hours to get there. I know the area, we'll make it in two, two and a half tops. It's obvious that something very serious may have happened to Peter."

Olivia nodded giving a grateful smile and got back in the car. Ann Mathis had proved to be a valuable ally and an intelligent investigator. She would have made a good FBI agent.

* * *

As Ann predicted, they arrived at the Northern Star in a little more than two hours after leaving Noyo County. She had called ahead and Sheriff Robert Burns was expecting them.

He briefed them about what had happened. The shooting in the young woman's room, and the chase which ensued thereafter. He informed them that, according to his deputies involved in the chase, they had been unable to catch her. She'd managed to escape even though there were road blocks and state troopers searching and they were still on the lookout for the vehicle now.

Then there were the bizarre witness reports about a strange light coming from one of the rooms in the second hotel that Peter and the girl had checked into. This time he had registered himself as Gene Dunham; Olivia couldn't help smiling when she heard the name. The young woman meanwhile, had once again registered herself as Anne White. The reception clerk recognized both the young woman and Peter from the photos Olivia showed him. Peter had paid for the rooms in cash, hence escaping Astrid's watch over the young woman's credit card transactions.

Olivia now had a claim to take over the investigation, since Newton was wanted by the FBI. Sheriff Burns was more than happy to oblige, a corpse bleeding mercury, was something he wasn't too keen on investigating himself.

* * *

Sense dictated she resume her investigation after getting at least a little rest, so Olivia checked herself in at the Northern Star at 3am. Exhaustion took over her but 3 hours later she was already up again, making phone calls and examining more footage from the surveillance cameras, this time from this second motel. Sheriff Mathis had returned to Noyo County the night before, but promised Olivia she would have Walter and her car brought to Roverville in the morning.

Olivia was left puzzled by what she discovered in the footage. Peter had entered his room and a little under an hour later Walternate had once again appeared. Peter let him in and a few minutes later, the witnesses reports of a bright light was backed up by the CCTV footage. A bright flash that could be seen through the room's window, momentarily bleaching out the video feed. After that, the blonde girl kicked the door open and entered the room. No one came out. They just disappeared. Olivia hit fast-forward until the point where the police had entered, but there was no sign of Peter and Walternate, nor the girl.

Another puzzling fact was that although the girl had entered that room, she appeared from an altogether separate room just a couple of minutes later. She crossed to her car, attracting the deputies, who Olivia already knew had pursued her out of the parking lot. There were two cars hot on her tail, and Olivia knew that probably there would have been more units joining soon after. Evading them all was one hell of a trick, and apparently the girl had somehow pulled it off.

However, it was becoming clear to Olivia that whoever the girl was, she was determined to keep Peter away from his biological father, everything pointed towards that fact. If she hadn't intercepted Peter back at the Northwest Passage motel, he would have met his biological father a few hours sooner.

Olivia couldn't help feeling some level of admiration for the girl. The camera covering her room showed Newton ambushing her, holding a gun on her and forcing her back inside her room. Then a few moments later Olivia's educated eye picked up signs of muzzle flashes, again from the window, four shots, three together, then a fourth after a few seconds. Immediately after the girl came out alone, running hell for leather, gun in hand towards Peter's room. The young woman had successfully neutralized the elusive shapeshifter while she had a gun pointed at her. She'd managed to do what Olivia and the FBI had been trying to do for months without success. It appeared that the girl was a resourceful fighter. Add to that the fact that she also managed to elude all the deputies that had gone after her, which only contributed to raising Olivia's admiration for this enigmatic girl. Nevertheless the motives behind the young woman's interest in Peter remained elusive to Olivia and that was something which made her feel uncomfortable. If the girl was revealed to be a threat, then she was no doubt a very dangerous one, although Olivia's gut feeling was that she was actively looking out for Peter's best interests.

There was something else that caught Olivia's attention, Peter and the young woman had been traveling east. Could they have been returning to Boston?

Another fact that disturbed Olivia was Walternate's association with Newton. Charlie came to her mind. All signs now pointed towards a connection between Peter's biological father and the shapeshifters. That was something very hard for Olivia to process. Still it gave her a clue to the type of person Peter's biological father could be, and she hadn't a good feeling about the man. Walter had ripped the fabric of reality to save another universe's version of his son. Olivia could only imagine what a grieving if not vengeful version of Walter might be capable of in order to get his stolen son back.

The fact that the young woman had been so determined to try to prevent Peter from meting his biological father only increased Olivia's gut feeling that something was off about Walternate, it also went some way to reaffirming her intuition about the girl.

Finding the young girl had become as much a priority for Olivia as finding Peter. Something very wrong was going on and the girl definitely had answers.

Olivia reclined back in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose, frustration and fatigue invading her body and mind, she had been at it for almost four hours already on way too little sleep. She took a sip of her already cold coffee and picked up the photo she had printed. The girl was beautiful, blond hair framing her face and cascading over her shoulders. But even through the failing quality of the image taken from the CCTV footage, there was something about the girl that reminded her of Peter, although Olivia couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Could the girl be a relative of his from the Alternate Universe? Peter's sister, even? Gone rogue, standing up against their father and trying to protect her brother from whatever Walternate was planning? Peter didn't have siblings in this universe but who could predict the events of an alternate reality. This alternate version of Walter didn't seem like a man who had spent more than a decade in a mental institution, as their version had. It was possible his mother Over There was still alive, or perhaps Walternate had remarried. Either way, he could have had another child after Peter was abducted, maybe in an attempt to fill the void left by his missing son.

If the girl was related to Peter, perhaps that would explain why he was willingly traveling with her. Also, being from the Other Side, would explain why there was no record of her.

Olivia cursed when she went to take another sip of coffee and found that the mug was empty. She was about to get up when the door of the motel's office opened. "Agent Dunham, the deputies from Noyo County just arrived, they're looking for you," the reception clerk said.

"Thank you, I'll be right there." Olivia gathered her notes and photos, then went out to meet the deputies. Walter was by their side, fidgeting nervously, stepping restlessly from one foot to the other. She thanked both men and made a mental note to call Sheriff Mathis to thank her for all the assistance and support she had given them since their arrival. There was no way she would have made so much progress in her investigation without the Sheriff's help.

"Where you able to find anything about Peter, dear?" Walter asked Olivia once the deputies left.

Olivia looked at the old man, dreading what would his reaction be to all the things she was about to show him. "Yes Walter. There's something I need you to see." Olivia took Walter by the arm and directed him to the motel's office.

Olivia and Walter sat down in front of the computer that managed the motel's surveillance system. She gave a few clicks with the mouse, searching through the footage for what she wanted to show Walter.

"Is she a relative of yours? A cousin perhaps?" Olivia was startled by Walter's question. He had picked up the young woman's picture, a vague yet hopeful smile brightening his features.

"My cousin? No, off course not," Olivia gave him a puzzled smile. "Why would you think that Walter?"

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. I'm just being silly. Of course she's not your relative. I only thought that because somehow she reminds me of you." Walter laid the picture back on the desk almost reverently but his eyes were still taken by the image of the girl. "But she really is beautiful." He turned his face up to her at last, the enraptured smile lingering. "Just like you Olivia."

Olivia smiled, she could feel her face flushing slightly. Her eyes fell to the picture of the young woman, puzzled by Walter's remark.

"Now, what was it you wanted to show me?" Walter asked and the moment slipped away.

Olivia directed her attention back to the screen and gave a few more clicks until she reached the footage she wanted him to see. "Peter was here last night Walter," she said gently, preparing him for what he was about to see, she clicked once more starting the playback. Peter appeared on the screen entering his room. "But someone else was here too." She skipped through the footage until Walternate showed up.

Walter remained silent staring at the screen. His lower lip trembled, his eyes on the verge of tears. Olivia put her hand gently on Walter's shoulder, after pausing the image. "Walter I need you to pay attention to what's going to happen next. Watch the window of the room." She said, careful to keep her tone low, she'd learnt that was the best way to get through to Walter. The old man nodded without taking his eyes from the screen.

Olivia resumed the playback. A few minutes after, the bright light flashed from the window. She paused the video again. "After this, there's no sign of Peter or the other Walter. I've searched the footage several times and there's nothing. No sign of either of them."

Walter's lip continued to tremble. He slowly turned to her. "Olivia dear, I need a silver coin - a quarter will suffice - a glass of water and a stopwatch." Olivia frowned at Walter's request, but she got up and went in search of the items.

A few minutes later she was back with everything Walter had requested. Walter took the coin and held it carefully on a horizontal plane, above the glass of water. He left Olivia with the timer in hand.

"Olivia, I'm going to count to three, after that I'll release the coin and you will start the timer. You must stop it as soon as the coin reaches the bottom of the glass."

"Ok." Olivia nodded.

Walter counted to three and they performed the experiment. "Olivia, please remember the time it took for the coin to reach the bottom." Olivia nodded again. "Now we must go to Peter's room immediately." Walter got up carrying the glass with him and headed towards the exit. Olivia followed after him.

Once they reached the room Walter set up to perform the experiment again. "Ready?" he asked. Once more Olivia started then stopped the watch once the coin reached the bottom of the glass.

"How long did it take dear?"

"Strange," Olivia frowned. "It took longer than before, by almost a second."

Walter's lip started trembling again. He sat down heavily on the bed, his shoulders slumped.

"What is it Walter?" Olivia's concern increasing by the second. "What does it mean?" she asked sitting beside him.

The old man looked at her with watery eyes. "The laws of physics have been broken here Olivia. What you just saw are the lingering effects." A tear rolled down Walter's weathered face. Olivia stood silently, waiting for Walter to finish his thought. However her brain was already processing the information she had just heard, which only confirmed what she suspected since she had first seen the footage of Walternate, but that she had refused to accept until this moment. Now she had to face what she feared the most. An hollow filing invaded her, followed by deep sadness and sense of loss.

Walter looked back at Olivia. "I am certain that Peter has crossed over to the Alternate Universe with his father," he said sounding every bit as devastated as he looked.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to Crystalline Green for all the hard work. This one had a lot to edit, so kudos to you mate. Thanks also for everyone that reviewed, fallowed or read the story. I hope everyone liked the chapter.**


	16. Over There

**Chapter 16 – Over There**

_Etta kept kicking and thumping the vending machine. The darn thing insisted on not delivering the drink she wanted so badly. God she was thirsty._

_"You're doing it wrong" She heard someone saying from behind her._

_Etta turned around. Eddie was smirking at her._

_"And suddenly you're supposed to be an expert on vending machines?" She cocked an eyebrow._

_"No, but your father is." Eddie said casting his gaze behind her._

_Etta turned around once more and there, right next to the vending machine was Peter Bishop. Not her father as she remembered from her childhood, but the version of him that she had met the day before._

_"Dad," she smiled. Etta knew he would fix it for her, he always did when she was a kid._

_"Let me try kiddo," her father said smiling back at her. The sight of him warmed Etta's heart, this was the smile he always had in reserve only for her._

_Peter allowed his hand to rove over the side of the machine as if searching for the sweet spot. His movements slowed, then gave the stubborn machine a left handed thump and instantly a can of soda emerged with a thud in the collection tray. He reached in to grab it and offered it to Etta. "Here you go."_

_She took the can from his hand. "Thanks dad."_

_Peter smiled once more. He took a strand of Etta's hair and tucked it behind her ear, then leant forward and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead._

_"You're really a daddy's girl," Eddie said moving to stand beside her. He nudged her with his elbow._

_"A daddy's girl that can kick your ass blindfolded." Etta nudged Eddie back. He smirked once again._

_She looked at both of them. The two most important men in her life were by her side. Saying that she felt the happiest she ever remembered was an understatement._

"Miss…"

_The voice was coming from somewhere faraway, it seemed out of place. Etta looked from her father to Eddie._

"Miss!"

_Their lips weren't moving, it didn't make sense._

"Miss, wake up. Are you ok?"

_The voice was becoming clearer. She could also hear the muted knocking of knuckles on glass._

Etta opened her eyes, squinting against the harsh grey light. It took her longer still to gain her bearings. She was inside the car, slumped in the driver seat. The events of the last day came rushing back.

Still a little groggy, she turned her head to her left, the movement caused her muscles to scream at her. Her right hand shot up to cup her neck, trying to soothe away the stiffness and pain. An old man with weathered features was looking intently at her through the window of the car, cautious concern deepening his wrinkles. She opened the window.

"I was on my way back home and I noticed your car was still here." The old man said.

"Still here?" Etta frowned.

"Yes, this morning when I was on my way to Roverville, I noticed your car parked by the side of the road."

"What time is it now?" Etta squinted, looking around her. The pain in her neck hadn't eased at all and her head was starting to throb.

"6pm."

"What? What day of the week is it today?"

The old man frowned at her question. "Thursday. Are you sure you're ok?"

She had been knocked out during almost a whole day. Etta looked around her, squinting against mounting pain. The headache was getting worse. Donald had warned her of the strain that jumping realities too many times consecutively could cause. Without eating and or without proper rest, there would be extreme fatigue and headaches, he warned her that it could be very dangerous to delve too deeply and fall into energy deficit. It was important to eat regularly, replenishing burned calories and to drink plenty of fluids, energy drinks if available would be of much help.

But she'd had little choice and her body had consumed all of its energy reserves.

"Miss, maybe it's better if I call an ambulance. You don't look so well."

Etta looked back at the old man. "It's just a headache. There's no need for an ambulance, I'm fine, thanks. I just need something to drink and some food." She smiled at him hoping to reassure and dissuade him from calling for medical assistance. She turned to the backseat, grabbing for the backpack.

She searched the side pockets, looking for the energy bars her grandfather had provided, but her fingers were sluggish. Etta cursed at her inability to find where she'd put the damned things.

"Here you go." She was startled by the old man's voice. Etta hadn't noticed that he had gone back to his car and had now returned with three cans of soda. He was passing them to her through the open window, a smile on his face. "My daughter always makes me bring back a ton of groceries every time I go to see her over in Roverville. I have plenty more in my car if you want dear."

Etta looked at the old man, touched by his kindness. "Thank you. That's very kind of you," she said.

She accepted the cans. Opening one she gulped it down, draining it in one go. She could almost feel the headache receding a little. Etta grabbed a second can and popped it open, this time she drank more slowly.

"You're sure you don't want something more?" The old man asked.

"No, I'm sure. These have really helped, thanks," she smiled fondly, already feeling the reviving effects of the sugary beverage.

Etta felt her strength coming back. Immediately her thoughts shifted to her father. She had to act quickly, having already lost so much time. Apparently she had successfully crossed over with her car, dramatically escaping her pursuers. Her memory was still a bit fuzzy over the details, having succumbed to exhaustion after crossing with a car in tow, but it was safe to infer that she had been successful, otherwise right now she would probably be locked up in a cell of some law enforcement agency.

She got out of the car to stretch her legs and to properly thank the kind soul that had helped her. "I'm Anne," she laid her hand out to the old man, not wanting to give her real name.

"Pleased to meet you dear, I'm Tom." He shook Etta's hand.

"Tell me something Tom, this may sound a silly question to you but I'm not from here. You said that you were coming back from Roverville right?"

"Yes, my daughter lives there."

"And this is Idaho, correct?"

"Oh no dear," Tom chuckled, "we're in Southern British Colombia, but Idaho isn't that far away though. Just keep driving straight ahead until you reach the highway, head east, you'll be in Idaho in two hours, tops."

Etta smiled having got the confirmation she needed, she was indeed in the Alternate Universe and a plan was already forming in her mind.

"Thanks again Tom, for everything."

* * *

Olivia reclined in her office chair pinching the bridge of her nose. Astrid had already left with Walter to drop him off at home. Like so many times before, Olivia was left alone in the lab going through files trying to find any clue that may have escaped her.

They had arrived from Noyo County a few hours before. There wasn't much else she could do there. Almost a day had passed since Peter Bishop had disappeared from the motel in Roverville.

The investigation into the events that had taken place there was getting her nowhere. Frustration was nagging and only getting worse the longer she searched fruitlessly through the information available to her.

Her gut told her that something was off when it came to Walternate and everything pointed towards the fact that the mysterious young girl was trying to prevent Peter from crossing over with his father. Whatever the reason was, as far as Olivia was concerned it remained a mystery.

The blond girl was an enigma and she was nowhere to be found. Although the ID she had used appeared to be solid, she wasn't match to the DMV's records. The bank account associated with the credit card she had used was a dead end. It was opened by an offshore company located in the Caymans and since its creation it had never previously been accessed. Everything she knew about the girl screamed of the likelihood that she had a very professional operation backing her up, probably with many resources at their disposal.

Olivia had always been good at making connections that no one else could see, but this puzzled and frustrated her to no end, she found herself unable to make sense of the facts before her.

If the girl's intention was to protect Peter, for all that Olivia knew, she could very well be in the Alternate Universe going after him. After all, Olivia suspected that was where she was from.

But that posed another question, one which troubled Olivia a great deal. What was it that she was protecting Peter from? What could be waiting for him on the Other Side that had compelled the girl to go to such lengths in order to prevent Peter from crossing over?

It was impossible to know if Peter had gone willingly or not. She felt a knot in her stomach every time she remembered the footage from the Northern Star motel. Peter was gone, he'd left without a goodbye and it hurt her more than she was willing to admit.

The first time she had known that she could not lose him was during the Vitas Petrol case, when he got infected with a deadly virus. That day, she would have moved heaven and earth in order to save him, the same way she had done for John.

Now she'd lost him, probably for good. Due to her inability to deal with her feelings for him, Peter probably would never know that she was in love with him. Not that it mattered, since he'd seemed keen to get as far from her as he could. His choice seemed clear, he was moving on with his life. Perhaps he had gone willingly with his father after all.

Maybe she should try to move on with her life too. She felt her eyes prickle, a stubborn tear threatening to escape. Olivia wiped her eyes with her hand, refusing to succumb to her tears. She picked up her coffee mug, she'd emptied it without noticing. She sighed and got up, making her way stiffly towards the coffee pot for a refill.

When she turned around, Olivia almost dropped the coffee mug in surprise. The Observer was standing a few feet from her. "You are not in the expected location."

"What?" she asked surprised and unsettled by his unexpected appearance, her heart still jumping in her chest.

The Observer tilted his head slightly to the left. "An unknown variable has occurred in this timeline," he said with almost airy detachment. He paused and straightened his head then continued with his assessment, "Calculating the necessary adjustments to achieve the desirable outcome has become... problematic." He tilted his head again. The monotonic speech he was delivering didn't make the slightest bit of sense to Olivia. After a further pause, he then said, "It is most unsettling."

Baffled, Olivia couldn't help but repeat herself, "What?"

Her cell phone rang at that precise moment. She grabbed it from her desk and looked at the display, it was Walter. She looked again to where the Observer stood. He was gone. In his place, a piece of neatly folded paper lay on the floor.

Olivia answered the phone as she bent to pick up the paper, "Hello?"

"_Hello, Agent Dunham. There... there is something I am supposed to remember, and I can't remember what it is, but it's about Peter._" Walter said sounding agitated and deeply distressed.

"Walter?"

"_No, no, no! I think something is going to happen to him._"

Olivia unfolded the paper. An image had been sketched in black ink. It depicted a man within a large device of totally unknown design, a man who looked too much like Peter to entertain the possibility that it could be anyone else. Below, Peter had been drawn in close up, with fire and smoke coming from his eyes. Letters that didn't form any known words were written in several columns surrounding the image. Olivia swallowed heavily filled with a profound sense of foreboding.

She almost didn't hear Walter's last words. "_Something... something terrible._"

* * *

"I think this is what I'm supposed to remember." Walter said looking up from the piece of paper the Observer had left for Olivia, he held it with trembling hands.

She had gone swiftly to the Bishop's house, right after Walter's panicked phone call. She was sure that she'd broken a new speed record, driving as fast as she could, between the lab and their house.

"One of those men – the Observer – he left it for me." Olivia gestured to the paper.

"After I brought Peter through from the other side, some years later, one of them came to visit me. He told me that I had to agree to never let Peter return to the other side." Walter kept nervously working his fingers over the paper. He shifted his attention between it and Olivia.

"Why?"

Walter put the drawing down face up on the table, "Well… because if I did, this would happen."

"Okay, but what is this Walter? What does it mean?" Olivia swiped her hand in the air above the paper, her impatience growing towards Walter, though in reality her frustration lay within the situation. She schooled her temper, letting it go now would achieve nothing.

"Look, look, it is exactly what it appears to be." The old scientist turned the paper around to face Olivia, so she could see it clearly. "See? I think my son... is going to be responsible for the end of the world." Walter's lower lip trembled. Olivia stared at him, then at the drawing. She remained silent for a few seconds, his answer had left her with a hollow feeling of terror in her gut. But she also knew what had to be done.

Another thought crossed her mind, she felt the reason behind the mysterious girl's efforts to prevent Peter from crossing over, was now becoming clear. "This is why the girl was trying to stop Walternate from getting to Peter," she said in a low voice. Unfortunately the girl had failed. Olivia raised her head looking at the old scientist once again. "Walter, we have to get Peter back."

"But we don't know if he crossed over on his own free will."

"Whether he did or not, I'm sure Peter didn't know about this." Olivia said jabbing a finger at the drawing.

"Even if he wanted to come back, I don't know if he could," Walter said sounding defeated.

"Walter. How do we get him back?"

"We have no way of contacting..."

"Walter!" Olivia slammed her hand on the table, her patience for his rambling shattered. She glared, her green eyes suddenly hard and dangerous. "How!?"

* * *

The sun had already set when Etta reached a relatively bigger town than the others she had encountered. She had been driving for more than two hours since waking up a few miles outside Roverville. Now she was entering Lewiston, Idaho, just across the state line with Southern British Columbia.

Etta decided to continue her journey to New York in the Alternate Universe. In her home Universe, she figured that she would probably be on the wanted list of several law enforcement agencies, after the stunt she'd pulled.

On the other hand, after killing Newton, she was sure that she had also raised some alarms among Walternate's agents in her Universe. Etta knew how resourceful they were and how they had infiltrated law enforcement and government on her side. It would only be a matter of time until Walternate's shapeshifters would come after her. Her best option was to travel in the Alternate Universe. They wouldn't expect that.

Two things were a priority on her list. Firstly she had to get a new vehicle; driving around in a car from an Alternate Universe would be hard to explain if she was stopped by the police; and, more importantly, she had to find an information terminal in order to activate the Showmes. Without them, she could do nothing in this universe and until then she would continue to be at risk.

After those two issues had been taken care off, she intended on finding a diner where she could at last have a decent meal. She was still running on the energy bars she had brought with her and the soda drinks supplied by Tom.

Finally she reached what appeared to be the main street, with stores on both sides, all now closed for the day. It was well past 8pm and she could hardly see anyone walking around, the streets were deserted. She spotted an information terminal in front of what seemed to be a tourist information office or a travel agency of sorts. '_At last_' she smiled to herself.

Street works prevented her from parking near the terminal. She left the car on a side street further ahead. Etta popped the trunk and took out the backpack containing the gadgets she would need to activate her Showmes.

She walked towards the information terminal. Once there, she looked around, making sure there was no one around before she started working. She removed the back panel to access the interface in order to connect the gadget her grandfather had provided. She smiled when she saw the port, just like he had showed her.

Etta connected the gadget and pressed the start button. The small display showed a progress bar as the data packet was uploaded and in less than a minute the operation was completed. She took out a mall Showme card reader, identical to ones used by law enforcement agents of the Alternate Universe.

She inserted one of the cards on the device and seconds later her picture appeared on the display with the name 'Melissa Givens' under it, along with her bio data which she committed to memory. She put the card in her pocket then proceeded to check the remaining cards. Every single one worked like a charm. '_Thanks Grandpa_' she smiled stowing the remaining cards and gadgets back in the bag. Finally, Etta replaced the back panel on the terminal before walking back towards her car.

Just as she approached the corner leading to the street where she'd left the car, a skinny young man exited a building stepping from the doorway in front of her, blocking her way. He had greasy hair which hung limply in his eyes and terrible teeth which he flashed in a grin. "Hi gorgeous," he said lecherously, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. Clearly he had no intention of moving.

From her peripheral vision, she could see a second man step away from the doorway where he too had lain in wait. This one was heavy set and short, dark hair shaved roughly. He approached from her right and had a gun in his paw like hand. He spoke with a low threatening growl as he crowded in close behind her, "Drop the backpack, slowly".

Etta clenched her jaw and gripped the straps of the backpack tightly.

The one in front of her sneered, "Oh, we're not interested in the bag, honey."

"I wanna go first," the man with the gun and gravel in his voice said. He had moved around and was standing by Etta's side, the gun levelled at her head. His tongue darted out following the line of his upper lip, she could hear the rasp of it on his stubble. "Damn, she's hot." He made a point of eyeing her from head to toe.

Etta looked at him coldly, she slowly slipped the backpack off and laid it on the ground, then turned to the man in front of her. "Why take turns, I think I can handle both of you at the same time," she curled the left side of her upper lip, giving the man a lopsided grin.

"Wow, this one is feisty," the gunman said, "I like that." Both men laughed.

"Yeah, I love feisty and you're gonna love everything we're gonna do to you," the guy in front said, confidently taking a step towards her.

"Hey! You there!" someone shouted from the other side of the street. Both men looked towards the voice.

It was all that Etta needed. She sidestepped and grabbed the hand of the guy with the gun twisting his wrist cruelly. Simultaneously she delivered a solid kick to his knee driving him to the ground. He fell hard on his face. She followed his momentum to the ground gaining control of the weapon still in the hand of the fallen thug. She directed the muzzle towards the other man and applied pressure to Gravel Voice's trigger finger and fired, shooting Bad Teeth in the groin.

Etta kept the thug with the gun immobilized, pinning his hand behind his shoulder blade, she leant to his face, "I changed my mind, you're not my type at all." Then she put her foot on the man's shoulder and gave another sharp twist to his arm, his shoulder dislocating with a sickening pop. The man screamed in agony.

By now several people were peeking through the windows of their apartments, attracted by the sound of the shot and accompanying screaming. Some of the boldest had come to their doors.

The person who had shouted moments before, arrived at the scene. It was man, also carrying a gun. Etta immediately wrenched the weapon from the thug's now non-existent grip and held it steady on the new arrival.

"Whoa! Easy! I'm friendly!" The man said holding his hands in the air. "I'm not going to harm you, I promise. I'm going to reach my jacket pocket to show you my credentials. I'm with Fringe Division."

Etta nodded her permission, only then did he slowly reach with his left hand into his pocket. He took out his credentials, and flopped the leather wallet open showing them to Etta. "Agent Daniel Hollands, New York Fringe Division."

Etta looked at the credentials and cocked an eyebrow. "You're a long way from New York."

Hollands moved to secure the two men, neither of whom were in any condition to make a run for it, but he cuffed them both anyway. Out of habit Etta found herself covering him while he worked.

"I'm actually from here. I'm on leave, visiting my parents. I already called the police, they'll be here in no time," he explained.

'_Damn it!_' Etta cursed to herself, that kind of attention was not what she needed.

"Can you put the gun down now, please?" Daniel asked smiling at her.

Etta unloaded the clip and released the bullet in the chamber, then she turned the butt of the gun towards the Fringe Agent, handing it to him. He kept smiling at her and took out a plastic bag from one of his pockets and dropped the gun in and held the bag open for Etta to deposit the mag and last round inside. "I'll give it to the police once they arrive."

"Good, then you can take care of this." Etta grabbed her backpack, getting ready to leave.

"Hey, wait there, where are you going?" Daniel grabbed Etta's arm.

She looked at his hand then gave him a sharp look. "You were the one that called the cops, you handle them. I had things under control."

"You sure did," Daniel mused releasing her arm. "That was really quite impressive."

Etta turned around once again, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible. "You better call an ambulance too, this one is going to bleed out in no time," She said nodding towards the man she had shot, who was lying on the floor already passed out. The other one was hurling abuse at her, writhing angrily and still trying to raise himself from the ground.

"And you better keep an eye that one, he's mad as hell." Etta turned to Daniel. "Or do I have to do everything around here?"

He chuckled and smiled at her "Ok then, I'll handle the cops. If..." he grabbed the arm of the thug that was trying to get up. The man gave another pained shout "...you'll join me for a meal. I was heading for my uncle's diner, it's not very far from here."

"Seriously, you're trying to hit on me?" Etta cocked an eyebrow.

"After what I saw you do to these two?" Daniel shoved the still struggling thug against a lamppost, making his dislocated shoulder crash into it. The man yelped in pain once again. "That is the furthest thing on my mind. I pretty much value all my body parts, especially the family jewels." Then he removed the cuffs from the thug and put his arms around the post, cuffing Gravel Voice once again.

Etta snorted. She considered her options. She needed a decent meal, but she wasn't very keen on spending time with a Fringe Agent from the Alternate Universe. On the other hand, if Daniel made good on his promise and handled the police for her, then he could probably save her from spending several hours answering awkward questions at a police station.

* * *

After handing the thugs over to the police officers who'd arrived at the scene, she and Daniel gave a quick yet pertinent account of the attempted attack and events leading to the pair being floored and detained by the Fringe Agent.

Etta had allowed Daniel to do most of the talking and used the Showme she had slipped into her pocket just moments before to identify herself, with absolute confidence that it would stand up to whatever checks they cared to run. Their records would show that Melissa Givens was clean, an impeccable citizen and with Daniel vouching for her, the Officers were happy to let her go. She knew that Fringe Division had a tremendous influence in this Universe. She had witnessed it first hand during the weeks she had spent on the Other Side, a timeline ago.

Once they were cleared, they had walked to the diner, which as promised was just a block away. Daniel's uncle had given them a warm welcome when they arrived. She also noticed the saucy wink he gave his nephew when he'd introduced her. Daniel in turn rolled his eyes at his uncle's insinuation. Etta couldn't help smiling.

For the moment she was alone in the booth, the Fringe Agent had excused himself before going to the kitchen to talk with his aunt. She could see him from where she sat, through the serving hatch, she watched as he picked up a call on his comm device. Daniel was easy on the eye; brown eyes with dark hair. His lean body showed that he kept himself in shape, a requirement for any Fringe Agent, Etta mused.

She chuckled to herself at the thought that the guy who was apparently in his late twenties, was technically old enough to be her father. Still, he was hot. Nevertheless, she had much more urgent matters to take care off. She needed to get to New York as fast as she could.

"It seems that the District Attorney may end up giving you a medal," Daniel said as he joined her in the booth.

"And why is that?" Etta furrowed her brow.

"I just got a call from the Chief of the Police. There have been a series of attacks on young women on this part of the state. They just linked three of those attacks to the guys that jumped you."

"With 'attacks' you mean rapes?" Etta fixed her eyes on Daniel.

He hesitated lowering his gaze. "Yes," he confirmed taking a sip from the tea cup.

"Then I'm sorry I didn't shoot the other one in the 'family jewels' too".

Daniel chuckled "Where did you learn to fight like that? I work with some very tough agents, good fighters, both male and female. But that..." he shook his head. "That was really impressive."

"I was raised in a tough neighbourhood, I had to learn to defend myself." Etta shrugged.

"And where is that neighbourhood? If I may ask?"

Etta looked at Daniel, he had a playful smile in his lips. 'The best lie is the one that's based on the truth' she remembered someone saying that a long time ago. All of her fake identities had been programmed with that in mind. "I was born in Boston, but my parents died when I was a child, so I moved to Chicago where I was raised by my aunt."

"I'm sorry" the smile faded from Daniel's face "Boston was hit pretty hard early on, we lost a lot a good people there". Ironically Etta's life story fitted almost like a glove on the events of the Alternate Universe.

"Here you go, two nice homemade brunch-burgers with cheese, bacon and eggs." Daniel's uncle arrived with the food, putting a plate in front of each one "They also have your aunt's secret sauce," he winked at Daniel. "If you kids need anything else, just call me. I'll leave you two alone now, enjoy" he said with a nod aimed at Etta, then he swiftly retreated towards the counter.

"Apparently we have my uncle's blessing. He likes you." Daniel gave a crooked grin.

Etta raised an eyebrow, then she looked towards Daniel's uncle who gave her a wide smile from behind the counter which she returned instantly. "He has good taste."

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. "Yes he does, but for god's sakes, don't encourage him. The last time I brought a girl here, I never heard the end of it. For the next five months, every time I called them, the first thing they would ask me was when I was going to propose."

Etta chuckled before taking a bite of her burger, she hummed her appreciation, it was delicious - and messy, sauce and egg yolk ran down her chin. Unselfconsciously her tongue darted out to capture what she could, then she mopped up the rest with a napkin.

"Of course..." Daniel finished munching "...trying to explain to them that she was just a colleague and that she had a boyfriend, was useless."

He took another bite, never taking his eyes from Etta. "But like you said, my uncle has good taste, my colleague is a very beautiful woman, just like you are."

Etta shifted her eyes from her plate to Daniel and gave him a small smile. Then she resumed her meal without saying a word.

Daniel smiled, "I was temporarily assigned with her team because they were investigating a case that lead them to this part of Idaho. Since I'm a local, they recruited my services." Daniel stopped eating, looking intently at Etta.

"What?" she asked noticing his stare. "Do I still have sauce on my chin?"

"No" He chuckled "It's just... I'm imagining you with red hair. You kinda remind me of her." He shifted his attention to his burger, taking another bite.

"What?" Etta stopped eating all together, staring at Daniel.

"Agent Dunham, my colleague, she has red hair." He raised his eyes from his food and stared at Etta. "Why, you know her?"

Etta blinked. "Never heard of her," she shook her head and lowered her gaze to the food in front of her, trying to mask the surprise that had taken her.

Daniel continued to watch her for a few seconds, munching his food in uncertain silence.

Etta didn't say anything further, instead she kept her eyes on the plate. She quickly ate the rest of the food, starving as she was. "This is really good, your aunt is really a great cook." Etta finally said, popping the last piece of cheeseburger in her mouth.

"I'll be sure to tell her that," Daniel smiled.

"This was nice," Etta said as she took out her card, intent on paying for her meal. "But I really have to go."

"Oh no, there's no need for that," Daniel said indicating the hand holding her card. "It's on the house, my uncle wouldn't have it any other way."

"Then I guess I have to thank him too," Etta got up and went to the counter. She thanked Daniel's uncle, leaving the old man with a wide smile on his face. His aunt left the kitchen on purpose just to tell Etta that she was a very beautiful young woman and that she would always be welcome there. Then she finished by giving Etta a big and unexpected hug which made her initially tense, before she was able to relax into it.

Etta returned to the booth to pick up her backpack. Daniel gave her a sheepish smile, "Sorry about that."

"It's ok," Etta shrugged, "they seem to be good people."

"Yes they are," Daniel agreed. He got up and reached into his jacket pocket. "If you ever find yourself in New York, give me a call. I'm actually heading back there tomorrow, my leave ends Friday. Saturday, I'm back on the job." He took out his business card, holding it out to Etta. She took it, looking it over for a second before she tucked it away in her pocket.

"Thanks for everything." She held out her hand to him.

Daniel took it and shook. "I really didn't do anything," he said releasing her hand and offering a shrug. They stared at each other for a moment, then Etta smiled and threw the backpack over her shoulder, she turned and walked out of the diner.

Daniel slumped in the booth and sighed. He watched Etta through the window, until she turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

* * *

Olivia's body and mind hummed with energy, generated through fear and anticipation. She looked around the Opera House from her position at the centre of the stage. Gathered with her were Nick, Sally and James. They formed a square with their arms raised at the shoulder level, the tips of their fingers almost touching. Walter was in the centre of the square they'd created.

About thirty six hours before, the Observer had left the drawing depicting Peter trapped in a Machine, one that according to Walter, could bring about the end of the world.

With Nina Sharp's help they had formulated a plan to get to Peter. The other Cortexiphan subjects had been under the care of Massive Dynamic since Fringe Division had found them. With medication and training they were now in full control of their abilities. Together they were going to attempt the unthinkable, they intended to cross over to the Other Side.

Now, Olivia was about to step into an unknown universe, looking for the man who had run from her without as much as a goodbye. Of course that preventing the end of the world and trying to stop an inter-dimensional war was a great excuse to risk her life by jumping realities into hostile territory to go after a guy.

She took a deep breath trying to clear her mind and focus on Walter's words.

Olivia followed the old scientist's instructions, imagining herself on the Other Side, the universe slipping by her. Until her attention was brought sharply back to her surroundings when James collapsed on the floor.

"James! James!" Olivia said urgently, dropping to her knees at his side, when he rolled towards her, she saw his face was covered with angry blisters.

"Help me," James said in a trembling voice.

Olivia turned to the old scientist. "Walter, what do we do?"

"Look... we made it." James raised his finger to the ceiling.

Olivia followed with her eyes and through the ornate domed skylight she saw a blimp passing serenely overhead.

* * *

Etta fumbled with the steering wheel controls trying to tune in a radio station. She settled on one playing soft jazz. The car she was currently driving was as big improvement over her previous one. She had been driving for more then a day after leaving Lewinston. The day before, after resting and recovering overnight, Etta returned her former vehicle back to her universe, then crossed once more to the Other Side. She still felt the best course of action was to travel to New York via the Alternate Universe and opted to rent a car, prior to leaving Lewiston, having spent the night there. With the funds she had access to and with the fake IDs her grandfather had provided, she decided to indulge in a little luxury, so she rented a Lexus.

Still, despite the comfort of the vehicle, Etta's decision to drive cross country was one which irked her. She'd seen directions to Lewiston airport and was confident that there would have been a flight which would have cut her journey time by a couple of days at least, but with her cache of ID's, each with a different name, the electronic gadgets - some of which could certainly be illegal to hold in this universe - and her weapons, flying with them simply wasn't an option on the table. She had every intention of staying off the radar and after one close call already, she now had to be even more cautious. She'd already drawn enough attention as it was.

She kept to driving on secondary roads when possible and practical, resorting to the interstates only when her preferred option meant she would be taking a lengthy and otherwise unnecessary detour. She would have to drive for long hours, but was careful to stick within the prescribed speed limits, even though she felt the need to reach her destination as quickly as she could. The temptation to put her foot down gnawed at her most notably each time she checked the time, or the odometer to see how far she'd travelled.

Progress wasn't as quick as she would have liked, but she was confident she would reach New York by the end of the next day; which would be Sunday.

The road took a sharp turn to the left. When she completed the turn, she froze completely at the sight before her. A few yards ahead an Observer stood in the middle of the road, blocking her way.

The hyper velocity gun was the first thing that came to mind even as she slammed on the brakes. Etta knew that trying to run over the bastard would be a worthless endeavour. The gun capable of killing Observers was something she hoped never to use in this timeline, so she kept it in the duffel, which in turn was in the trunk. Besides, keeping a low profile meant that she had to keep her weapons concealed.

She had no way to know if the Observer was one of the original ones, or one from her timeline, sent to stop her from completing the plan. She had to act quickly. As soon as the car came to a complete stop Etta got out and went for the trunk, hoping that she could get to the Observer-killer weapon before he got to her.

The Observer made no motion to move as she skirted the car, he only followed her movement with his eyes. Etta made it to the deck lid, opened it and went for the gun in the side pocket of the duffel. She stepped out and raised the gun, ready to shoot.

The Observer had vanished.

"The course of the timeline has been restored successfully. The desired outcome can now be achieved."

Etta's heart almost jumped out through her ribcage when she heard the voice coming from behind her. But there was something else, the voice sounded familiar. She turned around to find the Observer standing only a few feet from her. His features resembled someone she knew very well. "Donald?"

The Observer tilted his head and took a step towards her. "To ensure it will be achieved, the anomaly must be removed," he reached for Etta's shoulder firmly holding on to her.

And just like that, they were gone.

* * *

**A/N Thank you so much for all the kind reviews in the last chapter. I couldn't answer the one from fringelawyer because you don't have an account, so I'm thanking you now for the kind review, I'm really glad that you and the others liked the chapter so much. I hope I don't disappoint anyone with this one.**  
**Like always, Crystalline Green deserves major kudos for all the hard work. I'm repeating myself, but I don't care. She deserves it because without her there would be no story. You're the best mate!  
****I would also like to send kudos to cotillion66, the scene between Olivia and September was actually inspired on a similar one he wrote for his amazing story 'Fringe and the Dead'. If you haven't read it yet, what the hell are doing here? Go on and read it! So kudos to you mate, hope you don't mind my borrowing :)**


	17. Alone in the World

**Chapter 17 – Alone in the World.**

Peter looked to his right and saw a Blimp through the window, passing serenely by in the sky.

'_A Blimp?_' Was he dreaming? He closed his eyes, confusion clouding his awareness.

He drifted in and out of consciousness. He thought he remembered, at some point, seeing the guy from Massive Dynamic, what was his name? Brandon? Why was he having dreams featuring Brandon?

The line between dreams and reality blurred and became a dirty smudge of uncertainty.

He opened his eyes to find his mother attentively leaning over him. '_Mom?_'

She smiled. '_Rest Peter,_' she urged and gently caressed his hair.

'_Ok mom._' He fought the urge to close his eyes, he wanted to look, to see her face. But the soothing motion of her caress made him want to give in to sleep. Besides, wasn't he dreaming already? He couldn't fight it, his eyes slipped once more.

An image formed in his mind's eye. A woman. She had her back to him, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. '_Olivia?_' She turned around. It wasn't Olivia, but a young girl with stunningly blue eyes wearing battered army fatigues, the exact same outfit Olivia wore when they first met. She smiled at him. She was somewhat familiar, but Peter couldn't remember ever meeting her.

Peter recognised his surroundings, they were in the hotel lobby back in Baghdad.

The smile had faded from the girl's face. Instead she regarded him with such a pleading look, which reminded him so much of Olivia. She held a drawing in her hands, lifting it up in front of his face, clearly expecting him to understand, but Peter couldn't make any sense of the drawing.

His attention was drawn when he heard a scream coming from his left. The hotel lobby was replaced by a lab of sorts and the girl disappeared. Olivia was laying on a gurney, two men wearing surgical masks surrounded her, one of whom was sticking a large bore needle into her arm.

She had been heavily restrained. Ugly broad leather straps fastened with heavy duty buckles tethered her torso, hips and limbs to the gurney. She wore only a pale hospital gown. Her face was marred with cuts and bruises, some old, some very fresh. Her expression twisted, a mixture of pure rage and absolute fear, as she fought hard to get free. The injuries to her face were not the only ones visible, her arms were littered by needle track marks.

'_Olivia!_' Peter's heart clenched at the sight in front of him.

She turned her head, now looking directly at him. '_Help me Peter_'

Peter ran, trying desperately to reach her, but the distance between them remained constant.

One of the men took a surgical saw from a tray and the other grabbed Olivia's head keeping it steady.

'_No, no, no!_' Peter kept running, his lungs burned from the effort.

The man brought the saw into contact with Olivia's forehead, cutting through skin and into bone. Blood ran down her face in oozing rivulets, eventually mixing with her tears.

"Olivia!" Peter raised himself from the bed, cold sweat covering his skin. His breathing was rushed, panting in panic and disorientation. His wild eyes wide and searching as he scanned his surroundings, trying to make sense of what was happening. It took him a few seconds to level his breathing.

A nightmare. He had just woken from a nightmare, much like the cripplingly vivid ones he experienced when he was a child.

But this one was different. Olivia was there and something terrible was happening to her. Although whatever it had been, was already becoming a blur. Fading, slipping from his grasp faster than he was able to chase it. Peter lay down on the bed once again, taking deep and calming breaths.

Now that he was fully awake, he took time to look around once more. What he discovered took him by surprise. The room he was in looked nothing like the one he had rented at the Northwest Passage motel. Also for some reason, he had an IV hooked up to his arm.

'_Where the hell am I?_'

To his right, a few monitors were set up with fluctuating graphics tracing across the screen, keeping track of his heart rate among other things. There was something eerie and unfamiliar about the monitors, he couldn't remember ever seeing anything quite like them before.

The room was wide with large windows. Outside he could see the ocean, vibrant in the sun against a bright, clear horizon.

The sun was high, its position in the sky at that time of the day - if Peter were to believe the time one of the monitors was displaying - meant that he was on the East Coast. How the hell had he wound up on the other side of the US? The last thing he remembered with any clarity was Sheriff Mathis dropping him off at the motel. From then on, everything was a blur.

Had he been kidnapped? If that was it, whoever had taken him was doing a lousy job keeping him under control. He wasn't restrained and as far as he could tell there was no one in sight guarding him. Checking the corners of the room revealed no visible cameras either. Plus, the place looked to be as far from an institutional building as it was possible to be.

Peter had a good view of the house from the room through its glass walls. It was clearly a high end luxury residence, it obviously belonged to someone very wealthy.

He removed the IV from his arm and noticed a change of clothes neatly arranged on a chair next to the bed.

As he was changing, something caught his attention. Movement near the kitchen. His vision was partially blocked by a cabinet, but he could see that it was a woman.

He finished dressing and walked out of the room. Peter had a much better view of the open plan kitchen/living area. Large sliding doors opened out onto a spacious patio, surrounded by lush planting and brilliant flowers. Positioned in the corner was a table overlooking the water. It was a house of extravagance, but comfortable and tastefully done with quality furnishing that looked like it had been collected over time, each item individual, but everything came together cohesively in this space. A modern mansion perhaps. The Hamptons came to Peter's mind.

His attention shifted to the sounds coming from the kitchen. He walked towards it and found the woman working with her back to him.

Peter froze on the spot. He didn't need for her to turn around to know who she was.

"Mom?"

She turned and gave him the most heart-warming smile he ever remembered. Still, her eyes couldn't hide the sadness behind them.

"How is this possible?" Peter mumbled in shock. "I've crossed over to the Other Side, is that it?" Peter stood stock still, his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him – his mother.

Elizabeth walked towards him. "If by 'Other Side' you're referring to our Universe, the one to which you were born, then yes. You crossed over with your father almost three days ago. You don't remember?"

"My father?" Peter frowned. He searched his mind, but the only thing he could remember was Noyo County and arriving at the motel. He shook his head. "I don't remember anything"

"It's ok Peter." Elizabeth raised her hand to softly touch Peter's face. "Walter said that short term memory loss could be a side effect of crossing over. But don't worry, he says that in time, you will probably recover the memories. He told me that he found you in the Other Universe and that you had agreed to come home with him."

Peter nodded, letting Elizabeth caress his face. "You are such a handsome young man".

He smiled and enveloped his mother in an embrace.

Elizabeth let go of the tears that had been threatening to escape, returning Peter's embrace. "I've missed you so much son."

* * *

A cold shiver ran through Olivia when she noticed what poor shape Sally was in. The woman's skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, her eyes were alarmingly red and she seemed to be weakening by the minute.

First James had succumbed, seemingly to his own ability, back in the Opera House and now Sally appeared to be heading towards the same fate. Would she and Nick end up the same way? Would she burst into flames and die in an alternate version of New York? Olivia pushed those thoughts away and turned to the others who were arguing, unsure of what they could do about Sally's condition.

On top of those issues, Walter was becoming increasingly stressed and anxious. She needed to help them retain their composure and focus on the mission. "Come on, it's not far," Olivia encouraged them to follow her.

They had been unable to use the public transportation system because of their obvious lack of the so called 'showme' cards, which were apparently used in this Universe as both ID and a credit system. Because of that, they had been forced to walk all the way from the Opera House to Central Park, where they were expecting to meet with William Bell.

Earlier they had barely escaped from an encounter with what appeared to be this Universe's version of Fringe Division. Apparently they were hyper vigilant in monitoring any and all signs of 'fringe event' disruption. They had been on them before they had a chance to gather themselves and get out of the building. It had been disturbing seeing first hand an alternate version of herself. But that didn't even begin to compare with what she felt in seeing Charlie Francis alive and healthy. She felt a tumultuous mix of happiness and sorrow mixed with envy that _this_ Charlie was alive and not _hers_.

However, it was also a strange comfort to know that here, a version of Charlie was still working with another version of herself.

Olivia kept driving their pace, going as fast as Sally was able to cope with. She knew that the girl was suffering through such a long walk, but she was also concerned with the amount of time they were spending out in the open. They would remain vulnerable until they met with William Bell who she hoped would lead them to safety. There was also a very real risk that they would miss their allocated meeting window.

She hoped they wouldn't arrive too late. William Bell had to be there. He was the only one who cloud help them; help _her_; find Peter.

Olivia wondered what Peter could be doing right at that moment.

* * *

"I've been out for almost three days?" Peter took a sip from his coffee, which according to his mother, was a rare commodity in those parts. They sat outside at the table facing the ocean, with the sun warming his face, and the fresh breeze whipping off the sea tousling his hair. It felt good and along with the coffee it had the effect of lifting the lingering fog from his thoughts.

The patio was part of a much larger garden, occupying the land wrapping around the house - mansion - until it sloped away gently and reached the beach. Such a property, located this close to the ocean in the Hamptons, was only within the reach of the very wealthy.

Was this what Walter's life could have been if the other Peter hadn't died, if - since then he hadn't been haunted by his choices and failings?

Peter pushed the thoughts away at the sound of his mother's voice.

"Walter said he found you in a small town in Southern British Colombia, on the Other Side."

"Southern British Colombia?" Peter chuckled.

"Yes, the state on the Northwest coast of the US, above Oregon and below the Canadian border. Why? It doesn't exist on the Other Side?"

"Yes it does, but it's called Washington State."

"Really?" Elizabeth frowned, a small amused smile playing on her lips.

"Mmm," Peter hummed around another mouthful of his coffee. "Funny, the last thing I remember is arriving at the motel in Noyo County. I have no recollection of anything after that. Not even meeting... my father."

"I'm sure it'll come back in time Peter. Walter believes so." Elizabeth placed her hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. "It's such a shame he can't be here, but he has urgent affairs to take care of in the city, he'll spend the night there. He's the Secretary of Defence, you know?"

"Really?" Peter raised his eyebrows and took a good chunk of bacon putting it his mouth. "God, this is delicious." He closed his eyes savouring the food, a childhood memory surfacing in his mind.

Elizabeth's smile widened, happiness reaching her eyes and making her look younger. "I'm so glad you like it."

"I never had bacon when I was growing up. My mother was a vegetarian..." Peter paused realizing what he had said. "I mean, the Elizabeth from the other side." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear this."

"No, on the contrary," Elizabeth countered. "I want to hear all about your childhood. What's... are you close with her still? I mean... did she take good care of you?"

Peter's smile dropped, the woman he'd believed to be his mother - more precisely the 'other' Elizabeth - was still a very painful subject, one he didn't like to talk about. But sitting before him was his actual mother and she deserved to know what had happened to her son after he was taken from her. "She took very good care of me. But she committed suicide about ten years ago. My mother from the other side… she was wonderful, but she wasn't strong. In fact, she was very, very sad... which I suppose was because of me."

Elizabeth grabbed Peter's hand, she looked at him with conviction in her eyes. "No, listen. Peter, in the end, we have to take responsibility for our own decisions - the good and the bad." She patted his hand and gave him a warm smile. "Your father's going to be so pleased to see you."

Peter returned his mother's smile and gave a light squeeze to her hand. "I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"It's really such a shame that he has to spend the night in the city. He left some papers for you to take a look at."

"He did?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he told me that he talked about it with you before you crossed over."

Peter sighed, "I really wish I could remember."

"It's ok Peter, I'm sure you will eventually remember." Elizabeth reached out to Peter once again, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "Walter believes you might be able to help him with a project he's working on. He will explain everything to you tomorrow. He knows you're a very talented engineer."

"I wouldn't say I'm a talented engineer," Peter chuckled. "But I'll be glad to take a look at it."

* * *

Olivia roamed the streets aimlessly.

A few hours before they'd been ambushed at the bridge in Central Park. Nick and Sally were dead, Walter was nowhere to be found; perhaps even captured and Bell hadn't showed up. Things couldn't have gone more wrong.

She cast a furtive look at the people passing by, busy with their lives. There weren't so many differences between this and her universe, apart from a few obvious things. The truth was that both realities seem to have more in common than things that set them apart.

So why was this Universe attacking hers? Why had so many lives been lost in a secret war known only to a handful of people, at least on her side. She wondered why it had started in the first place.

Now James, Sally and Nick had joined the tally of those who had fallen because of that godforsaken war. God knows how many more might join them if the event depicted in the drawing the Observer left her, ever came to be.

Olivia's thoughts drifted to Peter. She could taste bitter failure on her tongue. She had failed him when she let Walter hide the truth from him and now she was failing him again. She was alone in a hostile world, with no one to help her and she had no idea how to get to Peter.

The mental picture of him trapped in the infernal machine made her gut clench and her heart ache.

She stopped and leant against a wall, adrenalin levels still running high from the events on the bridge in Central Park, leaving her with an uncomfortably jittery feeling.

Night had already fallen. Olivia took another good look around to make sure she wasn't being followed. She took a deep breath - giving up was not an option. Where, or to whom could she turn for help? Who might be understanding enough to realize that she wasn't a threat?

Only a few feet to her left, Olivia noticed someone consulting an information terminal of sorts. At last an idea began forming in her mind.

* * *

Charlie Francis walked towards the bar not very far from Fringe Division. A usual spot for Fringe Agents to meet and unwind after work.

After the events of the day he could sure use some unwinding. Lincoln was in the hospital recovering from his injuries, but it had been a very close call.

He clenched his jaw thinking about what he had learned that day. They were at war with another Universe. They had been for years. Invaders from another Universe. That was something hard to believe, yet he had seen the evidence for himself, at way too close quarters.

He wondered how similar the invader's Universe was. Would there be other versions of the people of his Universe over there? Would there be another Charlie Francis?

He sighed tiredly as he pushed the door open. Once inside he cast his gaze over the patrons, small groups huddled around tables or mingling at the bar. Lively chat and laughter filled the room. Charlie missed his friends. They would usually go there after a successful case and for sure, they'd meet here if it had been a hard one. The friendly banter between the three of them always eased the darkness of the situations they dealt with and made him feel better.

But not tonight. Liv had gone home, it was Frank's last day before travelling to Atlanta and Lincoln... he would be needing three months of intensive sessions in a Nanite Regeneration Chamber. So Charlie had been left alone.

Suddenly he didn't feel in the mood to unwind.

"Yo Francis!" Came a shout over the hubbub. Charlie looked around searching for whomever called him. To his left an african-american woman was waving at him from her seat at a table. Sitting across from her was a young man who was also giving him a friendly smile.

He recognize the pair; fellow agents from Fringe Division, Angie Hicks and Daniel Hollands. He had his mind set on leaving, but he might as well try to enjoy himself a little. The decision made, Charlie walked towards the table. "Hicks, Hollands." he saluted his colleagues.

"Grab a chair and join us," Angie, motioned for him to sit down.

"I don't want to interrupt your date, guys," Charlie said teasingly.

"Me, dating a redneck? I'd rather be stuck for eternity in amber!" Angie said faking disgust.

"A redneck? Really? This coming from someone who is totally lacking in sense of appreciation for men."

"Sense of appreciation?" Angie raised an eyebrow, then retaliated with confident sassiness, "The fact that I like women doesn't mean that I can't 'appreciate' men. I can size up the competition, which sometimes includes men. So believe me when I say - you're no competition Danny boy."

"For your information, many ladies happen to find me rather handsome."

"Your mother doesn't count Hollands, neither does your aunt. And two doesn't qualify as 'many'."

Charlie snorted and sat down. "Let him be Hicks."

"Don't worry about Danny, he can handle the truth." Angie waved her hand. She turned to Charlie her smile falling away, suddenly looking far more serious. "We heard about Lincoln, how is he?" she asked, raising her finger to signal the waitress for another round of drinks.

Charlie sighed, "He's got third-degree burns over ninety percent of his body. He's gonna need three months of Nanite Regen, but he'll live."

"Lee's a tough guy, I bet he'll be up and around in no time," Angie said and gave Charlie an encouraging smile.

"But how did it happen?" Danny asked.

The details of what really had happened in Central Park that afternoon were classified. Charlie hated having to lie to his colleagues, but he had no choice, so he gave them the 'official' line. "There was a small anomaly which ignited a fuel cell. Just bad luck he got caught up in it, I guess."

The waitress arrived with their drinks, setting them on the table. "To Agent Lee." Angie said raising her drink. The others followed her tilting their glasses.

"Enough about work." Charlie put his glass down after taking a sizable gulp. "Haven't seen you around for some time Danny."

"I was on leave for a couple of weeks, went to Idaho to visit the family. Only came back yesterday."

"Oh yeah and he fell in love there." Angie reclined in her chair putting a hand over her heart. Charlie frowned.

"Why on earth do I even tell you stuff?" Danny huffed. "I was impressed with the girl ok? You would be impressed too and not only because she was a really beautiful woman."

"What makes her so special? Besides being beautiful that is," Charlie asked amused.

"She got jumped by these two slime balls on a deserted street. I was headed towards my uncle's dinner and noticed one of them pulling a gun on her. I shouted and in the time it took me to draw my gun and get across the street, she'd managed to restrain the guy with the gun - dislocating his shoulder in the process - and shot the other in the groin. All the while the gun was still in the other guy's hand, mind you. Honestly, she did all that in a blink of an eye. When I got there, she was about ready to take me out too."

"That really sounds impressive." Charlie raised an eyebrow. "You should have asked her out."

"I sort of did…" Danny gave a lopsided grin. "I asked her to join me at my uncle's dinner. Of course I also offered my services to try to make things easier for her with the local police. She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to get out of there, so she accepted." He shrugged.

"So that's your secret to picking up women, using your Fringe Division credentials to offer your services? And here I was thinking that with your good looks, women were falling at your feet." Angie said faking disbelief.

"What can I say, I have an arsenal of tricks up my sleeve." Danny retorted. He returned his attention to Charlie ignoring the mocking expression on Angie's face. "But it wasn't just the fact that she was a very skilful fighter. She had this inner strength, this confidence about her. It was hard _not_ to be impressed. And all that hidden behind of one of the most beautiful faces I've ever seen - almost angelic - made an entrancing contrast."

"Told you he was in love." Angie winked at Charlie.

"Clearly." Charlie smiled.

Danny rolled his eyes and gave a shake of his head. "I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Nope." Angie and Charlie said in unison. They all started laughing. It hadn't been a bad idea to stick around after all, Charlie mused.

* * *

Peter huffed out his frustrations. The blueprints his father had left for him to study where like nothing he had ever seen. He'd been going over them for hours. His genius mind was able to make sense of some of it, but what eluded and puzzled him the most was this machine's purpose. Why was his father working in such a monstrous device? What could he possibly need it for?

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. "Do you really understand all this?" Elizabeth asked frowning as she took a glance at the papers scattered across the table.

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet." Peter shrugged.

Elizabeth nodded and smiled at him. "I'm headed to bed. Good night Peter." she said gently caressing his shoulder.

"Good night." He watched as his mother walked away. Peter still couldn't believe that he was in his mother's house. A smile played on his lips. He couldn't help it, since he'd first woken up and he realised where he was, his smile broke out every time his mother was near.

Still it was a bitter sweet sentiment. He thought about everything he had left behind in the universe where he had been raised. It really wasn't much, but thinking about the last two years he had spent in Boston, with the man who had abducted him gave him mixed feelings. There had been good moments. He smiled again remembering Astrid; he would miss her. He'd even miss Gene. His smile dropped when his thoughts shifted to Olivia. He ached thinking about her and the idea of never seeing her again pained him more that he was willing to admit.

Peter shifted his attention back to the blueprints, trying to clear his mind. He went through the papers laid out on the table once again. The one depicting the fully assembled machine caught his attention. There was something about it that gave him the strongest feeling of déjà vu. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling frustration building and fatigue reasserting itself, he closed his eyes, leaning back on the chair. An image flashed in his mind's eye. A blonde girl with blue eyes showing him a drawing of some sort. Peter tried to hold on to the memory, a vain attempt to remember. Whatever it was, it swam just beyond his reach.

He opened his eyes and sighed. As much as he tried he couldn't remember who the young girl was, nor bring the remembered fragment into anything more than just that. He wasn't even sure if it was a memory to begin with.

* * *

From the shadows of the street below, Olivia watched through the window as her alternate-self shared an intimate moment with someone; her boyfriend or husband perhaps.

Judging from the few interactions Olivia witnessed her alternate having with her colleagues back at the Opera house, she appeared to be less burdened. And now she also appeared to have a life. Since joining Fringe Division, that was something Olivia hadn't had the luxury of.

She could also see that her redheaded alternate had a significant someone in her life.

She wondered who it might be that was with her alternate. Could it be this universe's version of John? Olivia was seized by shiver, just by thinking about the possibility. Or maybe things with Lucas had turned differently in this Universe. Then again it could be someone different altogether, someone she had never had the chance to cross paths with in her universe.

She wondered how things might have turned out if Peter had been raised in this universe. Would it be him right now with her alternate, making love to her in her apartment?

An odd sense of jealousy hit her.

It was uncanny that even with everything that happened to her and despite knowing everything that Walter had done, Olivia felt very fortunate to have had the chance to cross paths with Peter. The realisation shamed her to a certain degree; that she could be so selfish, knowing that so many people had paid with their lives, because of what Walter had done and the repercussions stemming from his actions.

"Hello, Olivia. It's good to see you again." Someone said from behind her.

Olivia's heart almost jumped to her throat. She turned around to find William Bell smiling at her. "How... how did you know that I..."

"...I suspected you would come here." Bell interrupted her before she could finish the sentence.

"Okay, so where were you at the park?" The accusatory tone in Olivia's voice was evident. Bell had a lot to explain.

"I received Nina's message, but when I got to the park, it was too late. There was nothing I could do. My dear Olivia, I know you have good reason not to trust me. But I'm afraid you're going to have to. Walter is in trouble. And I'm quite confident we don't have much time."

* * *

"That's good news Elizabeth, tell him that I'm looking forward to meeting him and that I will send a helicopter to bring him to the city tomorrow. Good night to you too, dear." Walternate turned his communicator off and reclined in his chair, a light smile playing on his lips. He took a sip of whiskey from the tumbler he was holding, enjoying the sound of the ice cubes tinkling against the thick crystal of the glass almost as much as he enjoyed the flavour of the single malt.

Apparently, things were going precisely according to plan. The next day, Peter would be there by his side, helping him to finally complete his plan.

A knock on the door of his office brought the Secretary back from his inner thoughts. "Come in," he invited.

Brandon Fayette stepped inside. "Mr. Secretary, we've just received a message from our Agents on the Other Side. The car the girl was driving was found abandoned in Lewiston, Idaho by the local authorities. But there was no sign of the girl. "

"Idaho?" The Secretary frowned slightly. "She's travelling east."

"Apparently Sir" Brandon nodded, agreeing with the Secretary's assessment.

"Very good. Tell our agents to keep on the lookout for her. Thank you Brandon."

"You're welcome Sir." Brandon stood for a few seconds in silence, then he spoke again. "Mr. Secretary, if I may ask, have you had any news about your son?"

"Oh yes. He is awake and he's working on the blueprints I left for him at home."

"So I presume that the drug worked? He doesn't remember your encounter on the other side or anything about the machine or the girl?"

"Apparently not. According to my wife, the last thing he remembers is arriving at the motel where he was staying before the girl got to him."

"That is excellent Sir. It was a wise decision to leave Peter alone with his mother."

"Yes it was. Waking up with a familiar face close to him; especially his mother whom he hadn't seen in more than 20 years, was the perfect way to make him feel comfortable in a strange environment." Walternate said with a light smile, which Brandon reciprocated. "Still, I want to keep a close eye on him for now. Tomorrow I'm going to send for him. Peter will stay here in the city, working on our project under close surveillance. I've already prepared everything."

"Very good Mr. Secretary. If you don't need anything else from me, I'll be heading home now."

"You can go Brandon, thank you. Good night."

"Good night Mr. Secretary." Brandon said, then left the office, closing the door behind him.

Walternate got up and walked towards the liquor cabinet, pouring another measure of whiskey into his tumbler. He swallowed it in one gulp and put the tumbler down. Then he too exited his office.

The Secretary walked the maze corridors of the DoD headquarters until he reached a door. It was accessible to only a select few personnel, with clearance at a sufficiently high level and whose bio data was contained in the system's mainframe. Naturally his name was at the top of that very short list. He successfully opened the sliding doors with a retinal scan and stepped inside a large room, a hangar of sorts. The space was lit by powerful spots, suspended from a truss high above the work floor.

At the centre of the space, the almost assembled wave sync machine stood in silvery magnificence before him. It was an impressive piece of equipment. He intended to use it to serve justice upon those responsible for causing so much destruction to his world; the man who had stolen his son.

Walternate set off into the vastness of the room. Although the machine was not and had so far never been active, he felt sure the energy in the space had changed. It felt charged, full of anticipation and potential energy. They'd worked extremely hard to reach this point and now they were so very close to reaping their rewards.

He'd set a course to intercept a plinth mounted close to the machine in the centre of the room, upon which was a high quality insulated case. The area was picked out with a spotlight. Illuminating it and its contents, contrasting starkly with the deep quality of the darkened void all around, only to be dominated by the Wave Sync machine looming above. No matter how many times one had been in here, the machine always demanded attention, now more so than ever.

He stepped up onto the raised platform once he reached it and cast a look to his right, where the drawing of Peter inside the machine was on display in a frame. He turned his attention back to the case and released the catches. From inside he delicately removed the strange piece of equipment from its foam housing, then closed the case.

The Secretary carried his acquisition back towards the exit, the sliding door closing effortlessly behind him.

* * *

Saying that she was annoyed, would be an understatement. No, Etta was _beyond_ pissed-off.

Donald – correction; the Donald from her timeline - had warned her that the original Observers would not react well to someone tempering with their plans to reset the timeline. So, one of Etta's tasks once arrived at the original timeline would be trying to contact them to explain her purpose.

Of course, that had slipped down in priority on her 'to-do list' once her father got kidnapped by her evil grandfather and everything had gone to hell.

To throw another spanner into the works, the Donald from this timeline - correction; September - had decided to intervene and prevent her from diverting the course of events away from where they believed and expected, they should be at that point. Which fell into direct conflict with her intention to rescue Peter, and as a result Etta was now locked up in a house in the middle of, literally, nowhere.

So, yes, she was beyond pissed-off.

She had tried shooting out the large window which almost completely formed one of the walls of the house. Her first intention had been to try to escape and the second, to ease her frustration. It didn't help with that either. Whatever it was constructed of, the thing had resisted everything Etta had thrown at it. And there wasn't much more left in the house to be thrown.

One thing she had to admit though, the view was breath-taking.

The house was situated on the top of a hill. A luxuriant valley, with uninterrupted tropical vegetation, sprawled ahead as far her eyes could see.

The house itself was odd to say the least. It only had two divisions in the entire floor plan and not a single door. The space was comprised of a small bathroom and a large, well-furnished space, open plan in the extreme forming a kitchen living room. The décor was minimalist, though laid out in the centre of the room there was a wide L-shaped sofa and had a large wall mounted television positioned in front of it. Etta wondered if September had spent too much time browsing glossy lifestyle magazines.

The TV had started playing an old movie as soon as September had dropped her off there. It was 'Singing in the rain'. Etta remembered Donald mentioning he had adopted his 'human' name after one of the actors on the movie. He really had an obsession with the freaking' movie.

Etta was laying on the sofa staring at the ceiling when she sensed movement to her right. She immediately got up. The Observer had returned. "September! Finally, you idiot!"

He tilted his head. "I am sorry we had to keep you in here. I assure you that you are quite safe. I created this pocket Universe for myself. I sometimes spend time here, in order to reflect."

"Well that was very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you. You are most welcome."

Etta rolled her eyes, apparently sarcasm had also been suppressed from their brains. "Listen, you have to take me back right now."

"We cannot risk any further interference affecting the timeline."

"Interference!?" Etta glared at September. "Coming from you that's quite ironic, not to mention hypocritical, don't you think?"

"You are puzzling." September tilted his head again as he studied Etta. "I have been travelling between realities and timelines, trying to determine your point of origin. Unfortunately, I have been unsuccessful."

"Wouldn't it have been easier just to ask me? Jesus, for someone with such advanced intelligence you can be a total ass."

September straightened his head. Etta shook her own. "Better yet, just read me, I know you can do that."

Etta felt September invading her mind, it made her apprehensive, knowing what he was doing, but she resisted her instinct to block and tried to relax and let it happen. Leaving no barriers intact, she let him read her fully. She had never done that, consent to an Observer probing her mind unchecked, without screening her thoughts. It felt... odd, but not as intrusive as she expected it would be.

The Observers from her timeline would force themselves upon her mind, often without warning, trying to gain access to her thoughts. It was, even for her, a brutal violation. Of course she was fortunate. She had a natural instinct and ability to deceive them, only giving them what she wanted and at the same time leaving them totally unaware of her duplicity. It was never something she had to work at, on the first sings of tampering, without thinking she closed off her mind. She had then learned to satisfy them by screen all but the most mundane of her thoughts. Even so, she could always feel them scuttling around her brain like spiders.

September, however, moved through her memories gently and effortlessly. The difference between his reading and the Observers from her timeline was uncanny.

Although his expression remained blank, Etta could sense his surprise growing as he accessed her memories, uncovering layer by layer the truths that had brought her to this point.

"This is most unsettling," he finally said after completing the reading.

"Yeah, it is. You were the one who sent me here. More precisely a future version of you; to correct the mess you guys are about to make."

"We preformed various calculations in order to ascertain the necessary events that must occur in order to correct the timeline. Preforming a reset and erasing Peter Bishop was the only one that assured the desired outcome."

"Well, you geniuses apparently can be wrong and are more than capable of making pretty dire mistakes. And that is why I'm here." Etta illustrated by pointing a finger to her feet on September's brilliant-white tiled floor. "But there's something else you must see. Go back to my vehicle, in the trunk there's a backpack. Check the concealed inside pocket and take what's inside."

September did as Etta asked, in a glimpse he was gone. He returned a few seconds later holding a notebook in his hand.

"That's right, it is your notebook, more precisely the notebook kept by your future self. You left yourself a message, it's on the last page."

September flipped through the pages until he reached the last one. He read it and looked at Etta. "I must confer with the others."

And then he was gone.

* * *

**A/N Oh yeah, you guessed. Big thanks go yet again to Crys. Without all her hard work and support it wouldn't have been possible.**  
**Thanks also to everyone still reading, fallowing and reviewing the story. It really means a lot.**


	18. There's Nothing Like Home

**Chapter 18 – There's Nothing Like Home**

Peter arrived at Liberty Island by mid-morning. As he disembarked from the helicopter, his eyes came to rest upon on the startlingly strange sight of the unfamiliar bronze hue embellishing the Statue of Liberty.

He remembered visiting the statue - the one from the Universe in which he was raised - with Walter and Elizabeth a few years before the old scientist was committed. It was one of the few happy memories of his childhood.

After visiting the statue they had spent time in Central Park, then ice skating in Rockefeller Centre. Finally they watched the Christmas tree being lit up. It had been such a happy day; the perfect day.

Now the memory didn't feel as happy as it used to. It had been a lie, one of the many he had been force fed throughout his life.

He didn't doubt Elizabeth's love for him, he knew she had done her best for him. She had loved him and treated him as her own, doing everything she could to give him the best childhood possible. But the burden of the secret was just too much for her to bear, and slowly it ate away at her.

He shouldn't have been there. He felt robbed of what could have been a happy childhood in his home universe with his real parents. Instead, he became a mere replacement for a dead child.

Peter looked over the Manhattan skyline on the far side of the Hudson, the Twin Towers still standing strong, dominating the vista. He imagined how it could have been if he had been raised here, how different his life might have turned out. It all had been stolen away from him, because a mad man had refused to let go of his dead son.

_'Sometimes people do very stupid things to protect the ones they love. But they do it out of love, not with the intention of harming anyone or because they are bad people'_

The words floated into his mind, coming out of nowhere. Peter tried hard to place where and whom had said them to him. Somehow he knew it was about Walter, but the context remained elusive.

Peter brushed the thought aside when he noticed a soldier approaching. "Good Morning Sir" the military man saluted him. "Please, come this way. The Secretary is expecting you." Peter nodded and followed the soldier.

The DoD complex was much larger than the museum, souvenir shop and other small buildings that Peter remembered from that long ago visit to Liberty Island on the Other Side. The soldier guided him through a maze of corridors until they reached a spacious reception area with a uniformed female officer manning a proportionally large desk. The woman raised her head from the terminal at which she was typing. Peter cast his gaze over her desk set up, curious about the fact that the terminal was embedded within the surface of said desk. The woman didn't seem to notice - or chose to ignore - Peter's stare, rather she nodded to the soldier escorting him. The military man nodded back and walked towards a large door behind and slightly to the right of where the woman was working, he pushed it open and motioned Peter to enter.

Feeling at ease, a marker of his past experiences through which he'd taught himself to be or at least appear confident in most situations, Peter did so without question. He entered into a large office and the soldier closed the door behind him.

The office was spacious and flooded with natural light allowed in by floor to ceiling windows along one wall, but the only thing that made an impression on Peter was the man in front of the windows, seated behind his desk. He was a perfect copy of Walter.

Then again maybe not quite so. He was wearing an impeccable and very expensive suit. His hair was neatly trimmed and combed, so unlike the other Walter, who most of the time didn't bother with such insignificant things as giving a little order to his habitually dishevelled hair. He made the perfect picture of the mad scientist, Peter thought, not without a hint of betrayal mingling with sadness unexpectedly blooming inside him. _This_ Walter commanded a pronounced air of distinction.

Peter walked towards his father's desk. "Mr. Secretary."

Walternate looked at him, a glint in his eyes. "Hello, son." He paused admiring Peter.

The Secretary exhaled deeply not able to hide the emotion from at last being reunited with his long ago stolen son. "I've imagined this moment so many times. I can't imagine how strange it must be for you."

Another difference that Peter couldn't fail to miss, adding it to the others he had already catalogued in his brain; the Walter who raised him would wear his emotions on his sleeve, he was impulsive and excitative. This man however seemed to be very good at controlling his emotions.

"I've seen strange. But this..." Peter took a moment, looking around, "this is something else."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. Unfortunately this is a very demanding position." Walternate stood from his chair, circling the desk closing the distance to Peter.

Peter brushed off his father's apology, "It's ok, don't worry about it."

The Secretary stood in front of his son. They stared at each other in silence. Walternate slowly reached for Peter and enveloped him in an embrace.

Peter closed his eyes and returned the embrace. He took in the scent of his father. No doubt, he was wearing a very expensive cologne. This was another difference to add to the list, the other Walter would always smell of the latest food concoction he had been working on, or lab chemicals, or even drugs with 'recreational' purposes.

Walternate broke the embrace. "I hope you're feeling well Peter, crossing over can be quite stressful, to say the least."

"Yes, I'm fine. Just some things which, apparently, I can't remember. Like us meeting on the Other Side."

"Your mother told me. Unfortunately, it is a side effect. One our technology hasn't been able to eliminate completely. Although from our tests I'm confident you will retrieve your missing memories soon. Have you started to remember anything yet?"

Peter thought about the memory flash he had of the blonde girl, but since he didn't remember ever meeting the girl, he wasn't quite sure if it counted as a memory. "No, not really," he said shaking his head.

"So you don't remember our encounter on the Other Side, in the motel where you were staying?"

"No. The last thing I remember is being dropped off at the motel by the local Sheriff, I'd been helping them with a case. I believe it was around 5pm last Wednesday. Then I woke up here yesterday."

Walternate put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Don't worry son, in time you'll recover those memories. Although I must tell you, there's really nothing much to remember. I was waiting for you near your room, we met and talked, shortly after we crossed over at about 7pm that same day. After that you remained unconscious due to the strain of the experience and the necessary treatment you underwent to counteract its effects. Without treatment, it could have been fatal to you son. You've spent too many years Over There, your body was no longer accustomed to Our Side."

"Of course," Peter said giving a slight nod.

Walternate gestured towards a low table with comfortable seats around it. "Please sit Peter, we have so much to talk about."

* * *

This was not how Liv intended to spend her last day with Frank.

Having to rush to a hospital alongside Charlie, chasing after the Secretary's doppelgänger, was not how she had planned to spend that Sunday.

This whole mess involving the invaders from another universe was getting out of hand and it was really starting to piss her off. What had happened to Lincoln was the final straw, she was itching to get her hands on one of them.

When the Secretary had mentioned a parallel Earth like theirs and that they were actively trying to invade, Liv had thought about what kind of people would live there.

She had seen the invaders. The one on the floor of the Opera House covered in blisters and the other two carbonized bodies on the bridge in Central Park. They appeared to be regular people, no different to anyone here, in her universe.

What it could be that had driven those people from another Earth to invade her world was something about which, she could only guess. Was their world in worse shape than hers? Could this be an attempt to escape, to take over an almost exact replica of their dying universe?

Or maybe they were ruled by a maniac dictator, who not being satisfied with dominating one world, was now trying to take over another. They'd had enough of lunatics like that in the past in her own world; people driven by greed and spite, who had tried to become the sole master of the entire planet.

She guessed that war and the hunger for power would always be an ingrained part of human nature, whatever Earth they came from.

But nothing, however, could have prepared her for what she discovered on the surveillance footage of the hospital where the fugitives had been spotted. Alongside the Secretary's doppelgänger, she discovered her own. Still numb with shock, she rewound the footage and froze the image.

Liv gaped at the sight of her alternate, a version of herself from another Universe. Apart from the blonde hair, there was nothing to distinguish them. Was she the same person as her? Did they share the same quirks, same life experiences and tastes? Or was their physical resemblance the only thing they would have in common?

She felt more puzzled than before about the motives behind such an invasion. What would drive her doppelgänger to break the barriers between universes and cross to this side? How would she get here or even come to know about this second universe? Why would the duplicates of herself and the Secretary – who seemed to more closely resemble a helpless old man and was nothing like the authoritative figure familiar from her universe - be the first wave on an invading army?

It didn't make any sense.

"Hey. You okay? Looks like you just saw a ghost." Charlie's rough voice startled her. Liv turned off the monitor, deciding not to reveal to him what she had found out. At least not for the moment.

First of all she needed to talk with the Secretary. He had a lot to explain.

"It's nothing. I'm still a bit tired I guess," she shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Did you find anything?" she turned to Charlie, bouncing on her heels.

Charlie gave her a pointed stare. "No, I think he's gone," he said after a few seconds. "There isn't much more to do here, Liv. We should get out of here."

She gave a single nod and stepped out of the office. "Yeah, let's go back to HQ," she tossed back over her shoulder already making towards the exit, Charlie trailing after her.

But Liv already had another destination on her mind, after dropping Charlie off at Fringe Headquarters, she would head on to Liberty Island.

* * *

In less than 30 minutes Liv arrived at the DoD premises on Liberty Island. She strode towards the Secretary's office, intent on getting some answers.

Liv stormed through the hall that lead to the office. "Miss!" A military female officer called after her. Liv ignored the woman's call, determined to get inside the office.

The military woman quickly got up from behind her desk and blocked Liv's path. "You cannot go in there," the woman said, standing firm.

Liv eyed the woman with irritation, assessing her with a single look. The officer, Major Warner looked too pristine and soft, like the career desk jockey she surely was. Liv clenched her jaw having little patience for bureaucratic interference and wanting nothing more than to push this woman aside and storm the office. Instead, with the last of her composure she gritted out, "I need to talk with the Secretary. It's important."

"I'm afraid you will need to make an appointment."

"Then tell the Secretary that Agent Dunham is here to talk to him. I'm not leaving until I see him."

The intense staring contest between the two women lasted a few seconds. Then finally Major Warner caved, "Fine, I'll see what I can do. Wait here."

"Thank you," Liv said with a tense nod.

Warner knocked lightly on the door and after a slight pause, slipped inside.

Liv took to pacing the room, relentlessly back and forth, her impatience starting to grow. Finally Warner returned from the office. "He will see you now," she said tightly, holding the door open.

"Thank you," Liv nodded once again, trailing behind the military woman and entering the office.

"Agent Dunham." The Secretary saluted her.

"Sir." Liv saluted back, her eyes quickly drifting to the young man standing beside the Secretary.

"This is Peter." The Secretary said, answering her unspoken question.

"Sir," she nodded towards the young man, who had kept his steely blue eyes on her since the moment she had walked inside the office.

"Thank you Major," Walternate dismissed Warner, who nodded and left the room.

Liv started to feel annoyed by the intensity of Peter's unwavering stare. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

He gave a guarded smile. "No, you remind me of somebody I know," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on her. "But your hair is different. Think I like yours better."

Liv stared back at Peter. It seemed obvious that he was referring to her blonde counterpart from the Other Universe. There was a hint of bitterness and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on shading his words when he spoke, it made her wonder about the nature of his relationship with the other woman.

"Would you excuse us, please, Peter? I need to speak to Agent Dunham." Walternate asked Peter.

"Of course."

"I'll be out in a moment to show you around." The Secretary said to Peter as he reached the door.

Peter nodded politely then opened the door to exit, but not without glancing once more towards Liv before he opened the door. Then he left the old man alone with the Fringe Agent.

"Agent." Walternate turned the fullness of his attention towards Liv.

"Uh, we lost him at the hospital, Sir. We think he had help escaping." She said referring to the Secretary's double.

The old man fixed her with astute scrutiny. "That's not why you're here, is it?" The old man asked.

"No, it is not."

"I told you there would be invaders coming over from the Other Side, but I didn't tell you they would be us."

"No, you did not."

Walternate pursed his lips and nodded. "They're our doubles," he said after a slight pause. "Alternate version of ourselves, but don't be deceived, Olivia. They're monsters in our skin. They'll do anything, say anything to gain our trust, but they can't be trusted."

Liv watched the Secretary closely, the conviction behind his words made her feel even more wary of the invaders from the Other Side. Especially after what had happened to Lincoln.

"That man," Liv said referring to Peter. "He knows me. Or her. That's why he was staring at me. Is he from the other side?"

"That man... is my son. Peter." Walternate answered.

That caught Liv by surprise. "Your son who was kidnapped twenty years ago?" she asked.

"Yes. Kidnapped by them."

That was unexpected, to say the least. Liv remained quiet, taken aback by what she had just heard.

"Agent..." The Secretary said after a moment of silence. "May I ask a favour of you?"

"Of course Sir."

Walternate took a seat behind his desk and reclined in his chair. He rested his elbows on the surface and clasped his hands together, his interwoven fingers resting close to his chin, he remained silent for a few moments, as if pondering how to make his request.

"What I am about to ask... I want you to think carefully about it before you give me an answer."

Liv's direct green eyes were fixed on his and gave a nod. The Secretary continued, "We have been gathering information about the invaders for several years. We have managed to send agents to their side on reconnaissance missions. Some have been successful in infiltrating to high levels and the information they have been sending back is quite disturbing." He paused for a few seconds and leant forward only adding to the intensity of the information he was sharing. "One of their people at the forefront of such invasion... is your alternate, Agent Dunham."

"I saw her on the surveillance footage of the hospital," Liv said, her eyes never wavering from the Secretary's. "She manage to evade us, along with _your_ alternate."

"I am confident that you will be able to apprehend them both."

"We will do our best Sir."

"I know that you will. But I'm planning to send Agent Dunham back to their side."

"Sir?" Liv frowned and inclined her head baffled.

"Not _their_ Agent Dunham." The old man's lips quirked, though not in anything as generous as a smile, it was a sneer. His eyes lingered coldly upon her. "_You_."

Liv stood silently, the chill of that look making her skin crawl. She fought the urge to cringe as the idea crept icily through her mind.

"I know it is a lot to ask," he elaborated, his tone dropping solemnly. "That is why I want you to ponder on it before you give me an answer. I also want to assure you that I completely understand if you refuse my request. I won't think any less of you. It is a very dangerous mission."

"I'll think about it Sir," she assured him, sounding all together more confident than she felt and despite her reservations, so strongly recoiling from the request.

"Olivia." The Secretary's use of her Christian name unsettling her even more. He got up, and moved towards her. "Their Agent Dunham is a very important person in their Fringe Division. Inserting one of our agents in such a privileged position would give us access to invaluable information about their side and their intentions. It would be a huge blow to them and a definitive step towards us stopping this war, which has already cost so many lives of the people on our side."

"I understand that Sir."

"Good. I've granted you higher security clearance, therefore you will be able to access all the information we have gathered about her. You may study it if you wish, independent of your answer."

"Will do so, Sir. I assure you that I will give an answer shortly."

"Thank you Agent Dunham. Now I have one more request if you don't mind, but I assure you this one is much simpler." He gave warm smile. "Could you escort my son to his apartment? You see, he knows the Olivia Dunham from the other universe, so I think it will do him good, seeing a familiar face."

"No problem Sir," Liv answered with a slight nod.

"Good. Just give me a few minutes with Peter and then you both may go."

"I'll be waiting outside Sir."

* * *

Peter kept his attention on the view past the window of the car taking him to some apartment his father had prepared for him. He avoided glancing at the driver, he knew it was making Liv uncomfortable. He had to make a great effort to fight the urge to look at her.

After all, he was curious about her. She seemed... less burdened, less intense. His Olivia carried with her a lifetime of pain and loss; you could sense her battle with both. It was always present, most notably displayed in the depth and unique quality of Olivia's olive green eyes. He'd immediately noticed that weight was absent within this woman.

_His Olivia._

He swallowed heavily, thinking about her and the fact that he would probably never see her again.

All of a sudden, being in a car with an alternate version of her in the driver's seat became a crushing weight, the air thick with realisation of loss and the pressure of grief.

So he kept his eyes on the passing city landscape, desperately trying to distract himself from the presence of the alternate of the woman whom had become such an important part of his life over the course of the past two years.

He tried to spot differences between this universe and the one he was raised in. Apart from the blimps cruising silently in the sky, there weren't many.

He thought about what his father had told him, about helping to heal this world. He really wished he could do something about it, to mend all the wrongs the other Walter had caused when he crossed over to kidnap him.

Peter was still having trouble dealing with that fact; that Walter was behind the mounting destruction of this universe. As much as he resented the old scientist for taking him away from his true parents, it was hard to believe that he would go as far as to destroy a whole universe just so he could selfishly have another version of his own dead son.

_'Sometimes people do very stupid things to protect the ones they love. But they do it out of love, not with the intention of harming anyone or because they are bad people'_

The exact same sentence that had popped in his mind when he had arrived in Liberty Island that morning, again came back to his thoughts. Only this time the fragment came with an accompanying image. The blue-eyed young girl had been the one to say it, the same one that had flashed into his mind the day before, while he had been trawling through the schematics of the machine at his mother's house.

The memory was still fuzzy, but he remembered he'd been standing in a parking lot of a motel when the girl said that to him.

Still, he couldn't place the motel, nor did he recognise the girl.

What the hell were these flashbacks? He was expecting to remember fragments of his encounter with his father back in Noyo County. So, why was he instead having memories of a girl he had never met and a motel he'd never been to? Who was this girl? Was she even real or just something his confused mind had conjured, a side effect from first the crossing and secondly from the administration of subsequent treatment? He made a mental note to talk with his father about it later on.

"Do you want to go to the apartment or do you prefer if I keep driving around?" Liv's voice brought him back to the present. He hadn't noticed that they had pulled into a garage or that the car had stopped, apparently a while ago.

"Uh, sorry." Peter gave an apologetic smile. "I was somewhere else."

The Fringe Agent gave a curt nod. "Let's go then," Liv said exiting the car.

Peter followed her into an elevator. She selected one of the uppermost floors, and the car began its ascent. In only a few seconds it came to a smooth stop and the doors opened. Liv led him through the corridor, stopping at one of the doors. "This is it." She pulled out a key from her pocket, opened the door and showed him inside.

The apartment was wide and very well decorated. A large living room with a big window that showcased the New York skyline in all its splendour. In the corner of the room, near the window a grand piano caught Peter's eye.

"The Secretary thinks you'll be comfortable here." Liv said closing the door and handing the keys to Peter.

"Thanks," He said accepting the keys.

"So, it's UV-proof glass. State-of-the-art anti-fire tech. There's viral purging, air filtration, and there's a gym and a pool upstairs." She said showing the house to Peter.

He took a good look around and spotted a framed picture of himself as a child with his parents. He picked it up, looking intently at it.

"The Secretary's gonna send a car to pick you up at eight, take you to dinner." Liv turned to Peter, watching him as he studied the picture. "What was it like on the other side?" She asked.

Peter frowned, a bit surprised by her question.

"The Secretary told me," Liv explained.

Peter set the picture back in its place on the sideboard. "A lot like it is here. Just... slightly different. It's subtle, but definitely different."

"You know, when people find out that you're back... you're gonna be famous." Liv said, her eyes fixed on Peter.

He frowned, surprised by her assessment of his situation from a different perspective. "What do you mean?"

"Well, your kidnapping. It's a famous story." Liv explained.

"So I'm like the Lindbergh Baby?"

This time it was Liv's turn to frown. "The what?"

"Nothing," he said shaking his head. Peter walked to the window and took in the impressive cityscape sprawling before him.

"What's she like?"

Again, Peter was surprised by the directness of Liv's questioning. He turned back to face her, and asked, "Who?"

"Me."

Peter smiled, amused by Liv's curiosity about Olivia. "She's a lot like you," he answered.

He remembered the first time he had met Olivia, in the hotel lobby in Baghdad. The pleading look of desperation she had given him, but then her tenacity and fighting spirit kicked in as she managed to successfully con the conman. Looking at the woman standing in front of him, he checked off the differences. "Darker in the eyes, maybe. She's always trying to make up for something. Right some imaginary wrong. Haunted, I guess."

Talking about Olivia - _his_ Olivia - out in the open, remembering who she was, her force of character, her kindness and sense of justice along with her relentless determination to fight for it, made Peter's heart clench. He felt a huge lump form in his throat. "Maybe she's nothing like you at all," he said, his voice cracking under the mounting strain his memories invoked. The weight of emotion he was experiencing made it very hard to be in the same room as this woman who looked so much like the woman whom he had quickly learned to admire and at some point during the past two years, had fallen in love with.

He felt drawn to Olivia, even during that first encounter with her. On the flight back to the states, her deception revealed, he remembered wondering why he had not called her out on that bluff. If it were anyone else he would have in a heartbeat. But not her, there was something about her which captivated him in ways that no one else had ever come close to before, or since. That link - whatever it was - didn't apply here, not to this alternate and somehow altogether cockier Olivia. "Thanks for the ride," he said after swallowing hard, wanting nothing more than to be alone and hoping she wouldn't miss the cue.

She didn't. "Of course," she said and without delay, left Peter alone with the view and his thoughts.

* * *

Olivia arrived at her counterpart's apartment. Less than eleven hours remained of the window she had to get to Peter and join the others at the Opera House. She reached up for the top of the doorframe, her fingers creeping along, searching hopefully and there it was, the spare key. They had the exact same hiding place.

She pressed her ear to the door trying to detect any hint of sound coming from the apartment. Nothing, all was silent. It seemed that no one was home.

Still, she had to be careful. Olivia took a deep breath preparing herself for what she was about to do. Her alternate could be inside or maybe her boyfriend. The idea of coming face to face with an alternate version of John made her stomach churn. She forced the thought aside and carefully opened the door, gun in hand.

As quickly as she could, she cleared each section of the house. There was no one there. Olivia took the opportunity to have a good look around. The apartment was bigger than hers. Decorated elegantly with knick-knacks and mementos scattered around the house. It felt... happier. The person who lived there appeared to have a happy life.

It only reinforced what Olivia already suspected after those few times she had spotted her alternate, she was definitely a more carefree person than she was herself.

She found herself trying to imagine what could had happened differently in their lives. Where their paths might have diverged. About those things, Olivia could only guess. But that was not the reason she was there.

Her eyes drifted towards a picture frame standing in a prominent place on the coffee table in the living room. Olivia picked it up and what she saw caused a huge lump to instantly form in her throat and her heart to constrict at the sight before her. The picture was of her doppelgänger alongside an older version of Marilyn Dunham. Was her mother still alive over here? It appeared so.

That brought another realisation to her attention; there were no pictures of Rachel or Ella here. She wondered why. Perhaps her sister had never born in this universe, or perhaps something happened to her.

Olivia put the picture back on the table, and attempted to push all thoughts aside, she had to focus on her mission. She looked around for a good hiding place. When she found one, she settled herself, waiting in the shadows for her alternate to return home.

* * *

"The parameters are human... a reflection of the human genome." Peter said to the recording machine while fumbling with the device his father had given him that morning.

"The spectrum isn't random. In fact, the specificity of the configuration would seem to suggest that the object would only respond to a subset of people," he continued to dictate to the machine allowing his hand to hover over the device. The closer he moved, the stronger the reaction of the device. "And a narrow subset at that. A subset of one."

Peter placed his hand on top of it. Upon making contact, the device suddenly came alive emitting a blue light as a pincer clamp closed around his hand. "Me," he finished.

His puzzlement of the strange device only intensified. Why on Earth would it respond only to him? His father had told him that it was old tech that could help heal their world. How come something that old would be triggered only by him? It didn't make any sense.

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. Peter got up to answer it.

He was pleasantly surprised to find this universe's versions of Charlie Francis and Olivia Dunham standing before him. Charlie extended his hand. "Charlie Francis," he introduced himself.

Peter smiled. Right then he wished his Olivia was there. "Peter Bishop. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said shaking Charlie's hand. "Come on in. What can I do for you guys?" He motioned for both of them to come in.

"Mister Bishop, we're concerned for your safety," Olivia said hurriedly, handing Peter a piece of folded paper.

"What is this?" Peter frowned unfolding the paper to reveal an image depicted upon it of a man that looked a lot like him, inside the machine. The same machine his father was assembling. But the scariest part was drawn on the lower half of the paper. It was his face, with some kind of ray skewering from his eyes. What the hell was that?

Still, the drawing looked familiar. Peter was almost sure he had seen it before, although as much as he tried, he couldn't remember where and when.

"This was given to me by an acquaintance of your father. An Observer," Olivia explained.

"An Observer?" Peter was even more puzzled. Observer's in this Universe? Since when did his father know of the Observers? He hadn't mentioned anything to him.

"He gave it to me, I think, to warn me about what would happen to you if you ever returned here." Olivia pressed on.

Peter stared at the drawing and then at Olivia. '_If you ever returned here'_ What did she mean with that? Why would the Observer give the drawing, this warning to this Olivia? It didn't make any sense.

Unless... No, it was not possible, it couldn't be _her_.

"What's going on?" Charlie said, apparently even more puzzled than Peter with everything Olivia was saying.

"He wants you to know that your friends are here and that they have come to keep you safe." The desperate look which she regarded him with was unmistakable.

Peter stared at Olivia, his heart beating faster. Was it really her?

"Hey, Liv, what the hell are you talking about?" Charlie said, clearly still confused about the warning being delivered, but his sense of alarm was growing by the second.

Olivia picked up a nearby bottle of wine, she rounded sharply, narrowly missing Peter with her swing as she brought the bottle across Charlie's head catching him on his temple. The glass smashed forcefully taking both the Fringe Agent and Peter by surprise. Charlie slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Olivia quickly knelt over him, putting two fingers on his neck to check his pulse. "Oh God!" she whispered relieved, then turned to Peter. "Peter, it's me!"

"Thanks, I think I just figured that out," Peter said still stunned by what had just transpired. It was _his_ Olivia before him.

_'She will manage to get to you and she'll convince you to come back.'_ And just like that the sentence popped in his mind. The intense feeling of deja-vu that had been triggered by the drawing was now overwhelming. But it was slowly being replaced by something else, a terrible feeling that something immeasurably bad was about to happen to Olivia; an omen or a warning of sorts, but still Peter could not trace the origins of that gut deep feeling of dread.

"Olivia, what are you doing here?" he asked, attempting to shake the strange feeling away and to get a grip on the torrent of emotions that were coursing through him.

"Peter... the... the Observer, he gave me this drawing," she told him, gesturing to the piece of paper he still held in his hand. "He also warned Walter that if you ever came back, something horrible would happen."

Peter re-examined the drawing, trying to take it all in. Like he had noticed before, the man in the machine was him. His face on the bottom of the drawing was surrounded by letters, a DNA sequence perhaps. Maybe his own. Probably his own, judging by what he had discovered just moments before Olivia arrived.

"How is this possible?" he mumbled, taking in the revelation. The chain of events and their implications still dawning on him.

"Peter, Walter says that if you ever get inside that machine, it will bring about the end of the word."

As the details began to connect in his mind his expression darkened. "My father... my real father, he had me study these blueprints." Peter wandered away towards the table he had been working on, showing Olivia the scattered papers littering the area.

Frantically he began searching through the stack of papers, until he found the one displaying the fully assembled machine. He placed the warning message Olivia had given him side by side with the schematic.

"He lied to me," Peter said, distraught over the revelation of his father's deception. "He told me I could heal the problems of this world. My father told me that all the problems out there started when Walter came over and stole me. That, now that I was back, I was gonna be able to help to fix it."

Peter shook his head. "But his bringing me back was never about fixing this universe. It was about destroying yours." He felt empty inside, it seemed that everyone he loved lied to him sooner or later. Had his mother deceived him too? Did she know of his father's true intentions? He honestly was beginning not to care about anything anymore.

"I'm sorry," Olivia said softly as if reading his thoughts. Perhaps she was, she was always so perceptive.

He looked at her remembering that Olivia surely had learned about his true origins right about the time they came back from Jacksonville. The double meaning in her apology was unmissable.

"How long did you know?" He asked, although he already knew the answer.

"A few weeks. Peter, I..." Olivia started to explain.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna let them do this," he cut her off. Whatever reason for hiding the truth from him, whatever explanation she was about to give, it really didn't matter anymore.

"I don't think that he can. I mean, not without you," Olivia said. "Peter... you don't belong here."

"No, I don't belong here. But I don't belong there, either." His voice was low, almost breaking.

"Yes, you do." Olivia said. Peter looked up at her, surprised by the conviction, the emotion in her voice. "I have thought of a hundred reasons... why you should come back. To... to fight the shape-shifters, to take care of Walter, to... to save the world. But in the end... you have to come back.

"Because you belong with me."

Peter listened and watched her completely mesmerised. The turmoil of Olivia's emotions played havoc as they tore through her; plain to see in the sheen of her eyes and to hear as they shook her words. The ever guarded Agent Dunham was bearing her soul, opening her heart to him. He stood frozen as she approached, raising herself up slightly, she pulled him into a gentle kiss.

He let her lead, initially too stunned to do anything other than receive. The kiss turned into something altogether more heated after a short while, thawing the ice that had settled within his heart since he realised he'd been deceived yet again. The intensity of the kiss took care of that, warming him at his core and he couldn't help but respond.

All the emptiness and that sense of loss; the feeling of not belonging anywhere vanished with that one simple confession. Peter grabbed her waist pulling her ever closer to him. He was clinging to her, because she was the only thing keeping him afloat right then. She was everything he needed.

They broke the kiss and he gently bumped his forehead with hers. He cupped her face and watched as Olivia nuzzled into his hand, her eyes closed, a smile blooming upon her lips.

It was the most beautiful smile Peter had ever seen.

He wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone you already loved. Because that was how he felt right then. He was falling in love, all over again, with Olivia Dunham.

"Come on, let's go home," Peter said after a while, pressing a last gentle kiss to her lips.

* * *

Etta paced the room back and forth. It had seemed to be hours since September had left.

Eventually she slumped on the couch letting out a growl of sheer frustration. It didn't help, so she sat back and tried to relax, which wasn't easy since her mission was hanging by a tenuous thread.

She looked at the TV and picked up the remote turning it on. 'Singing in the Rain' was playing for the umpteenth time. She pressed the channel buttons but each of them was playing the same damned thing. Etta rolled her eyes. The man was beyond obsessed with the movie. She gave up and turned the TV off.

Out of nowhere, the Observer materialised in front of her.

"Finally!" Etta quickly got up and marched towards September. Without warning he put a firm hand on her shoulder taking her by surprise. In a blink of an eye they were gone.

* * *

Olivia's ears rang with an intensity and sensation of pressure that was cruel, nauseatingly so. Also her mind felt horribly foggy and slow. She tried to get up but almost fell flat on her face. Her eyes took their time to adjust to the darkness enveloping her.

She remembered getting Peter to the Opera House, meeting Bell outside, then when Fringe Division arrived they tried to buy some time in order for Walter and Peter to power up the doorstop that would wedge the breach and allow them to get back home.

Then there was an explosion and she must have blacked out. Now she didn't have a clue where she was.

Olivia touched her clothes with her hands. They had been replaced, by what appear to be a jumpsuit of sorts. Then she felt around blindly with outstretched hands. She seemed to be on a metal bench of sorts, she sat up more slowly this time, then feeling steadier she made another attempt to get to her feet. Only taking a few tentative steps once her eyes finally began to adjust to the very dim light coming from beyond a closed door.

She could make out that she was inside a very small room. Her heart started beating faster as, with that realisation, she came to understand where she was and what it meant. Approaching the door, she frantically searched for a doorknob with her hands. There was nothing. The door was locked without any means to be opened from the inside.

Olivia took a few steps back. She felt around recoiling when she found the padding of the walls, but desperate to find another way to get out of there, but there was nothing. She flopped back down on the bench. She ran her hand through her hair, finding the unfamiliar bangs she'd cut just a few short hours ago. She tugged the too short hair angrily, they served as a taunting reminder of yet another failure. She drew her knees up protectively and tucked her head against them, feeling her emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

Suddenly a blind clattered opened, revealing a window set into the wall facing the metal bench, which turned out to be a bed. The figure of an authoritative Walter, this one dressed in an immaculate suit, stood on the other side of the glass.

Olivia felt her stomach churn as what she had suspected was now confirmed.

She had been captured.

Olivia approached the window, starting to hammer her fists upon the solidly reinforced pane. "Please let me out of here. I know you can hear me! Please... please let me out of here," she pleaded as the Secretary looked at her with frigid contempt. He did not say a word and Olivia could see a hint of a sneer forming on his lips.

"I know you can hear me! Please let me out of here!" she shouted in despair, still bagging on the window while tears of rage, frustration and fear started to flow down her cheeks.

"No, no, no!" Olivia pleaded once more as Walternate started to close the blinds. "No, no, no!"

Once the blinds fully closed, Olivia let herself slump to the floor. She curled in on herself unable to stop the sobs erupting once they rose up from within her.

* * *

Peter walked towards the Kresge Building with Walter trailing behind him.

A few weeks before he had though that he would never set foot in there again. Now, he had to be honest with himself, he had missed it.

Olivia had left them there and headed home. He couldn't blame her, not after everything she had been through to get to him. A smile lingered on his lips, thinking about their kiss on the Other Side.

"Peter, I need some pudding pops. Can we stop by the grocery store on the way back home?" Walter asked, hurrying to keep up with Peter.

"Sure Walter," Peter replied, glancing at the old scientist. Shaking his head at Walter's irrepressible food cravings. Oddly enough, he had missed those too.

Peter kept his stare on Walter a while longer, still thinking over the things the old man had told him just a few hours ago, upon their return.

After they'd finally returned safely to this side, all three of them were taken to the FBI's New York branch at Federal Plaza. Broyles met them at the field office, principally to debrief Olivia. But the man had welcomed them all warmly.

While they waited for her, Walter took the opportunity to talk to Peter. Explaining to him, in every painful detail, the reasons behind his abduction. Peter had listened in silence. He was still having a hard time processing all off it, but at least he had more of the picture now.

Between his biological father's deception and Walter's total lack of regard for scientific ethics, Peter found he had more sympathy with Walter's position and of the two men, he still preferred this universe's Walter; the man who had abducted him. At least he had done the wrong thing for the right reasons; to save him. Walter only ever had good intentions, but the situation spiralled beyond his ability to control it. Walternate however was motivated through hatred and a twisted sense of revenge.

Hours later, when they reached the lab, they found the lights were still on. Peter frowned, was Astrid there at that time of the evening and on a Sunday?

He opened the doors of the old lab and again he was struck by how much he had really missed that musty old place. Now he realised that more than ever.

Astrid was indeed there, leaning over her computer at her work bench, she turned around sharply when she heard the door swing open and then their footsteps. Walter immediately made a bee line for Gene's stall.

"Peter!" she almost shrieked in an explosion of relief and she strode towards him purposefully. Peter smiled and he moved to intercept her. Astrid threw her arms around him and he returned the hug without reservation. "I'm so glad you're back," Astrid said after breaking the embrace.

"Me too." Peter couldn't stop smiling. Along with Olivia and Walter, she was part of their 'weird' little family unit, as Peter had once called them. She was one of the few people he regretted leaving behind the most when he left.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Agent Broyles called a few hours ago and told me that you had all returned safely from the Other Side. So I decided to wait here for you guys," she said with a shrug.

"Thank you and I'm sorry," Peter said to her, causing Astrid to frown.

"For what?" she asked clearly puzzled by his words.

"I'm sorry for leaving without saying good bye. And thank you for taking care of Walter. I know that you must have been the one to take care of him while I was gone."

"Olivia helped too," she said trying to dismiss his concerns.

"Even so, I know very well that when I'm not around, it's you Walter looks to for support. So thank you for looking after him and I'm sorry for putting that extra burden on your shoulders."

"It's okay," she said with a shy smile. "Wait here, I have something for you!" With that, Astrid strode towards her bench.

Peter frowned, an amused smile lingering on his lips. She quickly came back with a slice of pie. "This is for you," she said handing it to Peter.

"Oh, apple pie! I _love_ apple pie." Walter said leaving Gene and approaching Peter. He reached for the pie but Astrid slapped his hand away. "It's for Peter! Haven't you eaten enough pie over the past week?"

"It's okay Astrid, I'll share." Peter took half of the slice of pie, offering the second piece to Walter. "Here Walter."

"Thank you Peter," the old scientist said, a gentle smile brightening his face. He turned around and shuffled his feet back towards Gene's stall.

Peter dug into the pie, happily taking hearty mouthfuls of it. "Oh it's delicious!" he said between bites.

"Eat away, I have plenty more." Astrid said clearly pleased and amused by the two of them.

Peter accepted a second slice, and after finishing, he discovered a third one already in Astrid's hands. "Seriously?" he asked eyeing the slice. "That's the third piece, Astrid. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "When I'm nervous, I cook. And I've been baking pies for about a week. Pies and muffins and cakes. And I've been eating them all too, so don't be surprised when I send you a bill for my lap-band."

"I'm sorry I made you nervous," Peter said realizing the impact his absence had on his friends.

"That's okay. At least you're back." Astrid said giving him a light smile.

"You mind giving Walter a ride home? I think I'm gonna take a walk."

"Sure," she acknowledged.

Peter looked over to Walter. The old scientist was gently brushing Gene. He called to him, "Good night, Walter."

The old scientist turned towards the younger Bishop "Peter... you are back now, aren't you? You're... you're not leaving again?"

"I'm trying to see this your way, Walter." Peter paused for a few seconds before continuing, "I can't" he said, unable to lie. Walter's smile immediately dropped from his face.

Peter couldn't help feeling a hint of regret for what he'd said. "But... you did cross universes twice to save my life. So that's gotta count for something, right?"

Walter's smile returned, his eyes shining. "Thank you Peter."

Peter nodded and strode out of the lab.

"My son." Walter said in a low voice while Peter closed the door.

* * *

Etta looked around, trying to regain her bearings after another impromptu trip. Now they were in an alley. She could see that it opened out onto to a busy street of a big city. Which; she wasn't quite sure. "Where are we?" she questioned.

"New York, in what you refer to as 'the Alternate Universe'."

"And _when_ are we?" she queried and gave September a stern look.

"Only thirty five hours, thirty seven minutes and forty six seconds have passed since I removed you from your previous location," he answered with his typical monotonic speech and maddening precision.

"Then it's about 10pm, Sunday," Etta said more that she asked.

"That is correct," September confirmed.

She was still on schedule and in the right place. That was a good sign, but one question remained unanswered. "So, what did you guys decide? Are you going to let me carry on with my mission?"

September tilted his head, remaining in silence for a few more seconds, as if pondering what to say. Etta frowned at the Observer's reaction.

"The others are not... entirely convinced about the correct course of action. Some still believe that the reset must take place," The Observer explained.

"I see. And what about you?" Etta raised an eyebrow.

"Your vehicle is parked on the other side of the street from the entrance to this alley. Your possessions are inside. Here are the keys," He laid his hand open towards Etta, offering the keys to her car.

She grabbed them and put them in her pocket. "Thank you."

"You should proceed as planned, I will try to convince the others not to intervene."

Etta nodded. She took a few steps but then stopped, turning to face the Observer again. "One more thing. When you intercepted me, you said that the course of the timeline had been restored successfully. Does that mean that everything that happened originally is happening again?"

"That is correct," September nodded slightly. "Although with slight differences due to your intervention, but those affects are negligible. From your point of view everything is happening as it did before."

Etta nodded again, but still there was something nagging her. "There's one thing that doesn't make sense. I warned my father, I told him what would happen to my mother if he crossed over. He seemed to believe me." Etta paused, narrowing her eyes "I thought that Walternate had kidnapped him and was keeping him locked away somewhere. But now you're telling me that everything his happening like it did before… so does that mean that he changed his mind and crossed over willingly?"

"Not exactly." September replied "Your grandfather did abduct your father, then he erased the memories of his encounter with you. Peter Bishop no longer remembers meeting you, nor anything you told him. He believes that he chose willingly to go with his father, because that is what he was told."

"I see," Etta ran a thumb across her lower lip, taking a few seconds to ponder on the implications of everything the Observer had just divulged. "So that also means that my mother crossed over with Walter to bring Peter back?" she finally asked.

"Yes, that is correct," September answered giving another slight nod with his head.

"Damn it," Etta pushed a hand through her hair in frustration. She paused for a while running different scenarios through her mind. "Ok, so if this is Sunday night then they must have already crossed back over..." She paused again, the implication of what she had just concluded dawning upon her. "Oh god! My mother... she was switched, wasn't she? They've taken her captive, on Liberty Island, haven't they?" Etta glared at September.

"I am afraid they have."

"Jesus, September. I was here to prevent that!" she spat the words venomously at the Observer. Etta clenched her jaw out of frustration. She turned away taking several agitated steps, before she spun back and retraced the path, though this time she stood even closer. "You have to help me get to her."

September remained silent. Even with his impassive demeanour it was clear to Etta that he was conflicted about how he should proceed. "I cannot do that," he finally said. "I have already acted in a way that the others will certainly oppose, by bringing you back."

Etta stared at him. She wished it was Donald there in front of her and not September. "Fine. I don't need your help." She turned away angrily and stalked towards the mouth of the alley, intending to get back to her vehicle and on with the mission.

"Henrietta," September called, making the young Bishop pause once again. "I am sorry for the consequences that our actions have brought upon you and your family. I will do my best to convince the others of the validity of your mission, but for now I cannot interfere."

She stood in silence for a few seconds glaring at the Observer. "Do what you think is best. Just try to keep the others out of my way and I'll get the job done."

"I believe that you will."

Etta turned away, this time making it to her car. According to Donald's and Astrid's account of the events in this timeline, Olivia had been kept for a couple of weeks in a dark cell on Liberty Island. She knew what had to be done.

Instead of rescuing her father she would now have to save her mother.

* * *

**A/N This was a huge one. Hope everyone still reading likes it. Thanks to Crys for the immense amount of work she put on this one. It's way better now, mate. You're the best!  
****Thanks also to everyone that reviewed the last chapter, and the ones that keep reading the story. See you guys on the next chapter.**


	19. Infiltration

**Chapter ****1****9**** – ****Infiltration**

Daniel Hollands suffered through the process of writing his report of their latest case. Sunday night shifts at Fringe Division were usually uneventful, apart from, perhaps, the occasional unexpected vortex. Although one hadn't chosen that day to make an appearance. His Sunday night shift was no different, even after the afternoon's events at the Opera House. Things had quieted down after all the ruckus caused by the breach, for which they had been unable to find any explanation.

Daniel thought he had caught increased activity from the A-Team however; Broyles, Dunham and Francis were definitely into something, even after the point where they'd almost lost Lee. For the moment however, they were playing their cards close to their chests.

Daniel sighed and tried to focus back on the unfinished report.

Only a hand full of agents remained on duty for the night shift. The majority of Fringe personnel had gone home, although many remained on call in case they were needed. Even considering this, the bullpen remained oddly quiet. It felt strange, in complete opposition to how agitated, sometimes even frenzied it became during the day.

He was startled when his cuff signalled an incoming call. "Daniel Hollands, Fringe Division," he answered.

_"Hi Daniel, it's Melissa Givens."_

Daniel bolted to attention, straightening himself on his chair. "Melissa?"

_"Yeah, from Lewiston? Remember?"_

His heart started beating faster, his palms sweating. "Err... yeah, sure," he smiled, still not believing who was calling him. "Of course I remember. How could I forget?"

He heard a chuckle on the other end of the line. _"Well I've been known to make a lasting impression."_

Daniel's smile got even wider. "You sure did," he paused, thinking that he might have been too forward, he began to backtrack, "I mean taking out those two guys single handed, it was quite impressive."

_"I'm sorry to call you at such a late hour, but I arrived in New York an hour ago and thought about giving you a call. Maybe I should have waited 'til the morning."_

"No, of course it's okay! I've pulled swing shift. Wait... you're in New York?"

_"Yeah. It was a bit unexpected but here I am, some last minute business to take care of. You know how it is."_

"That's great! I mean... I'm glad you called. Listen I'm still on duty now, but I'll be off in an hour, I know it's late, but we could go out for a couple of drinks, or just a nightcap."

_"You're sure?"_

"Yeah, this is the city that never sleeps after all. And I just have one more hour to endure, actually less than that." He said catching a glimpse of the oversized clock hanging on the wall.

_"Quiet night huh? Tell you what, I could meet you at Fringe Headquarters, I'm not very far from there. If that's okay with you?"_

"Sure, that would be great!"

_"Maybe you could give me a tour of the famous Fringe Division."_

"Of course, it would be my pleasure. I'll tell the guys at reception to give me a call when you arrive."

_"Great! I'll be there in fifteen. Bye."_

"Bye. I'll see you soon." Daniel hang up. He remained still for a few moments, a stupid grin splattered over his face.

He got up straightening his clothes and ran his hands through his hair trying to coax a little style back into it. He felt butterflies in his stomach. How stupid that was, he mused, he was a grown man, so why the hell was he feeling like a teenager about to go on a first date?

He took a deep breath trying to relax. The stupid grin however, didn't disappear.

* * *

Etta took out the two showme cards she needed from her backpack, plus the interface gadget she had used earlier in Lewiston to upload the fake IDs. Lastly she pocketed a small credit card sized device that she could use to take 3D snapshots.

She had called Hollands moments earlier hoping to gain access to Fringe Division through him. She hadn't expected to get in so fast, it was a sheer stroke of luck that he was still on duty.

Getting out of the car, she began readying herself for the task. First she reached for the gun she carried concealed beneath her jacket and stashed it inside the duffel. She started to close the bag, but stopped. She reached for the hyper velocity gun she kept in one of the side pockets.

Etta sighed looking at the gun. The idea of shooting one of the Observers from this timeline was a prospect that made her deeply uncomfortable. She knew they were nothing like the baldies from her timeline. Yet, she could not allow them to remove her from the timeline again. She trusted September, but the stakes were too high, she had to complete her mission. No matter what and whatever the cost may be.

After returning from her foray into Fringe Headquarters, she would ensure she carried the hyper velocity gun alongside her standard firearm at all times.

But that would be a consideration for later, she could not risk carrying guns inside Fringe Division. She placed the weapon back in the duffel and closed the trunk of the Lexus.

Etta checked over the two showme cards one more time, ensuring she had the correct ones. The first was carried the 'Melissa Givens' alias. It had been the identity she had used when she met Daniel in Lewiston, hence she would have to show that one at the reception once arrived at Fringe Headquarters.

The other was the high clearance ID her grandfather had supplied. He had warned her only to use it with extreme caution and only in case of an emergency. Her mother being locked up in Liberty Island and about to be experimented upon and brain washed, most definitely qualified as an emergency in Etta's book.

This card was imprinted with the alias of 'Andrea Smith'.

If her grandfather had calculated correctly, using the ID in a DoD terminal would grant her access to highly classified information, since it had been set to the highest clearance level. Fringe Division came under the umbrella of DoD, therefore their terminals would give her access to the information she was looking for.

Very soon she should know the precise location of where her mother was being held within the complex on Liberty Island.

But there was a catch.

Once she'd completed the upload of the data packet in Lewiston, all the IDs were inserted into the central system, hence, each one of them was now active.

That would be okay if Etta only used the showme cards to access public transportation, preform payments, access public buildings or even if she was stopped by a law enforcement agent; they only used hand-held showme card readers. In those situations, a card identification was the only thing needed, nothing else.

Having all of her IDs active had some advantages; she could use whichever ID she wanted at any time. In case of attracting the wrong kind of attention or being caught, she could use an alternative ID to try to elude the authorities.

But in order to use the DoD terminals in Fringe Division, having all of her IDs active posed a serious problem. Their terminals had biometric access protocols. It was a condition of the user to be admitted, a process that only required that the user swipe his or her hand over the screen to be instantly recognized by the system.

If Etta tried to use one of the terminals, the system would surely block her access. At worst, it could trigger an alarm, alerting to tampering of the system and render all of her IDs useless.

But yet again, her grandfather had ensured she was equipped with a contingency plan.

On the side of the uploader gadget there were two small buttons. They would allow Etta to browse the IDs stored in its memory from the original upload and from there she could choose to leave only one of them active. She only need select the desired identity and plug the gadget into a terminal. Once connected to the central system, the software would preserve the chosen identity and delete the others from the main frame's records.

The trick was to activate the high clearance ID, only once she made it inside Fringe Division, since she had to present the 'Melissa Givens' showme card at reception, therefore she could not risk wiping it out of the central system before that point. A more zealous security guard may swipe the card on a reader. If, by doing so, he discovered there wasn't an entry for the showme card in the central system, it would pose a serious problem.

Therefore it was safer to find a terminal once inside which would allow her to connect the gadget. Only after doing so, could she afford to search for the information she found herself in such desperate need of.

Etta took one last glance at the high clearance showme card and tucked it securely into her jacket's inner pocket.

She had parked the car a block away from Fringe Headquarters and now she set of to meet Hollands. It was a little after 11pm but the city remained full of life.

Etta hated having to use Daniel to get access to a DoD terminal, he seemed like a nice guy and under normal circumstances she would probably consider going out with him and getting to know him better.

Her years in the resistance had taught her that sometimes to get the job done, one would have to put ethical issues aside. If misleading Daniel and even hurting his feelings would get her to her mother, then so be it.

Besides 'normal circumstances' were never a measure that Etta could say had ever applied to her life.

Her thoughts drifted towards the events and coincidences that had brought her to this moment.

If Simon Foster hadn't been killed, they would have never crossed over to the Other Side. Without doing that, she would have never met her grandfather; the one from her timeline. He had provided all the gadgets, means and information for her to walk around in the Alternate Universe with an ease she could have never have dreamt of, if not for him. Without those resources, getting to her mother would have been ten times harder. Heck, walking around in the Alternate Universe without being arrested would be a feat on its own.

Then there was her encounter with Daniel Hollands a few days ago in Idaho. Another happy coincidence. Thanks to him, she had an excuse to get into Fringe Division and from there she could try to access a terminal to pinpoint her mother's location.

Without Daniel, she would have no choice but to try to gain direct access to Liberty Island using her high level showme card. Doing it to free her mother would probably render the precious ID unusable in the future. Although she would gladly sacrifice it in return for her mother's safety in a blink of an eye.

Besides, going to Liberty Island with a clear image of where her mother was and what obstacles she would likely be facing, afforded her a much better chance of achieving a positive outcome.

Too many coincidences, she thought. Was it the hand of destiny, then, that guided her?

Etta remembered her grandfather's words when she first met him on the Other Side. _'It's ironic that if your plan succeeds, in a way, you are going to be the one to send Peter back home, after all these years'_

Was that her purpose? Was that why she had been born; to correct the injustices inflicted upon her family all those years ago? Had her destiny been already predetermined by some higher power, a deity of sorts, to put right what once was wrong?

Eddie would surely have an opinion about that. Thinking of him still caused a tightening in her chest.

Etta stopped in front of Fringe Headquarters. From the outside it wasn't so very different from the building she'd got to know during her time on the Other Side in her timeline. She hoped the same applied to the place inside.

She climbed the few steps leading to the entrance of the building and once inside, walked directly towards the reception desk, where she announced herself, "Melissa Givens, here to see Agent Hollands, he's expecting me." She handed the security guard her showme. He gave it a cursory glance and immediately called Daniel. He didn't even bother to swipe it through the reader. Etta huffed gently in frustration, she could have activated the other showme outside after all. Anyhow, what was done was done, she would find a way to activate the master ID once inside like she had initially planned.

Just a minute later, the familiar figure of the Fringe Agent was standing before of her. "Hi Melissa," He said laying his hand out to her, a gentle smile on his face. She took his offered hand, giving it a shake.

"Sorry for dropping by like this. I'm sure you must be busy." Etta smiled back and bit her lower lip.

"Don't worry. We did have a bit of a commotion late this afternoon, but everything's quiet now."

"Nothing serious I hope?"

"We had a close call with a breach here in New York, but it regressed before it turned into something more serious. It appears to be stable now. We're keeping it under close surveillance."

"That's good to know."

"Come on, I'll show you around."

Daniel gave her a quick tour of the Fringe Division. Etta catalogued in her mind the location of each terminal she came across during the tour. There were only minor differences between the building she knew from her timeline and the one she was now exploring, mainly the differences were only décor and furnishings that had been updated. The offices and other rooms were pretty much in the same locations as they were in the building from her timeline.

Daniel guided her through to a break room. It was furnished comfortably with a large TV set, a small bar and a pool table. Etta recognized it from her visits to Fringe Division on her timeline, although here too there were small differences, but the space was practically the same.

"This is where we relax a bit when we have time." Daniel said waving his arm around, showing the room. "You can stay here while I finish my shift. I'll be out in..." he paused while he glanced at his watch. "Half an hour. I hope you don't mind." He gave an apologetic smile.

"Not at all. Go finish up, I'll shoot some pool while I wait." Etta smiled back.

"You like pool huh?"

"I used to play with my dad when I was a kid. It's one of the few memories I have of him."

"Maybe I'll take you on latter."

"Ok then, I'll look forward to it."

Daniel's cuff signalled an incoming call. "Agent Hollands... Yes Sir." He terminated the call, having received whatever orders were given, then he excused himself, "Sorry got to go. Be back in thirty." He left with a wave letting the break room door swing shut behind him.

Etta picked up a cue and waited until Daniel was out of sight. Even then she gave it a whole minute until she placed the cue back in the rack and exited the break room herself. She looked left and right, fortunately finding that there was still no one in sight. Etta quickly made her way towards one of the offices she had spotted not far from the break room during Daniel's tour. She cautiously pushed the door open, looking through the narrow crack, making sure no one was inside.

Etta checked over the equipment on the desk, it was one of those with the terminal embedded in its surface. She looked around trying to find a maintenance port in order to connect her gadget.

Her grandfather had explained that their terminals worked exclusively through a wireless network. But in this time, those models were recent and so they still had the older models installed which possessed the maintenance port. Unfortunately, the one in that office was a new model. There was no port. She cursed to herself and silently left the office, again making sure that there was no one around.

She walked further along the corridor, heading towards another office further ahead. Daniel had mentioned that it was Fringe Division's in-house IT Maintenance &amp; Support department. At that time of the night and with staff on duty down to a minimum, she didn't expect anyone to be there.

Etta knew she would probably find a terminal with the precious port available in there. She had been in the maintenance department with Lincoln back in her timeline, although there, it was in a different location. She remembered how the place was scattered with both working and gutted terminals and smatterings of other gadgets laying around on the worktops, only a few of them seemed to be fully working, or running diagnostic procedures.

Etta tried the handle and found the door was locked, although she'd been half expecting it. Fortunately after a quick inspection, she found it was only quipped with a regular lock.

Just as she was about to pull her trusty lock-picking kit from her pocket, an African-American woman turned into the corridor moving fast. Etta startled despite herself, and was angry for not masking her reaction better.

It seemed the woman noticed and had her suspicions aroused immediately. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

"Err... I... I'm looking for the bathroom."

The woman eyed her warily. "You still haven't answered my question, miss."

"I'm sorry, you're right." Etta gave an apologetic smile. "My name is Melissa Givens and I'm here visiting Agent Daniel Hollands."

The expression on the woman's face changed suddenly, from guarded suspicion to enlightened recognition. "Wait a minute... You're _the_ Melissa, from Lewiston?"

Etta squinted her eyes, surprised by the woman's question. "I guess I am."

The woman broke into a wide smile and gave an appraising look at Etta from head to toe. "Damn, you really are hot."

"Excuse me?" Etta asked sharply, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I'm Agent Angie Hicks, Danny's colleague, we're on the same team. He mentioned meeting you out there." The woman extended her hand towards Etta, the wide smile remaining on her face.

"Nice to meet you Agent Hicks." Etta shook Angie's hand, still a bit weary of her.

"Call me Angie." She waved her hand. "That knucklehead left you alone and didn't tell you were the bathroom is?" Angie asked, the smile lingering on her lips.

"Knucklehead?" Etta frowned.

"Yeah, Danny," Angie said like it was the most obvious thing. "Come on, there's a bathroom near the break room, I'll show you."

On the way Etta gave a furtive glance at Angie, noticing that she kept looking at her with a playful smile on her face. The woman was really making her feel uncomfortable.

"Relax I don't bite," Angie said after a while. "You know, you really made an impression on Danny. Now I can see why."

Etta wasn't sure how to respond to the Fringe Agent, so for the moment she kept quiet.

"He's a great guy you know? He's like a younger brother to me." Angie stopped their progression. She was giving Etta the hard stare, the smile had been replaced by a more serious expression.

The meaning behind Angie's words suddenly struck a chord with Etta. She could relate to the Fringe Agent. If some girl waltzed into Eddies life; someone she didn't know or trust, she would feel on edge and would treat her with suspicion. She would watch how she interacted with him, and if she saw any signs of her using or hurting him, she would surely wipe the floor with her ass.

It left her with an uncomfortable feeling to now be on the receiving end of such a transparent warning. Especially knowing that she was indeed using Daniel and could very well hurt him, or perhaps even get him into a heap of trouble if her infiltration were ever traced back to him.

"Bathroom's just over there," Angie pointed at a door not far from the entrance of the break room.

Etta nodded to the agent. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Angie said walking away. She stopped after just a few steps and turned back to Etta. "It was nice meeting you Melissa," the woman said, pleasantly enough, but there was still a coolness to her words.

"It was nice meeting you too Angie." Etta said, then swiftly made her way to the bathroom.

She went directly to the sink, cupping her hands under the tap she splashed cool water into her face. She tried to relax, the encounter with Angie had made her a bit jittery. She had to get a control of her emotions to do what needed to be done. She braced her arms on the sink, taking several more deep breaths until she felt calmer.

After a few minutes she exited the bathroom. Angie was gone and the corridor was deserted once more.

Daniel's shift was almost ending, she didn't have much more time. Etta returned to the maintenance office. She breathed a sigh of relief when she arrived without any further surprises, but made sure not to let her guard down, she didn't want to get caught out again. 'Getting sloppy Bishop,' she cautioned herself.

Etta took out her lock-picking kit, it was an item she carried with her at all times. She worked on the lock with practised ease and within a few seconds she felt the mechanism yield to her skill and she was in. She made sure to close the door softly behind her.

She took a good look around noticing at least three disassembled terminals along the work bench among scattered electronic parts and all manner of other kinds of gadgets. But it was the terminal placed on a small desk that caught her attention. It strongly resembled the old computers she remembered from her childhood. On the back of the exposed tower was a full array of varying interface ports, there at her disposal.

With a smile on her lips she switched on the terminal and waited while the system booted up, and soon she was greeted with the old Windows logon screen. Thankfully the device required no password, it would override all other protocols. She connected it to one of the ports at the back of the terminal. She made sure the correct ID for activation was selected before she pressed the gadget's start button. Immediately, the screen of the computer changed to a black command line screen. Etta watched as the progress bar quickly progressed on the gadget's display and on the screen of the terminal, she could see the different commands scrolling at speed as they were being issued to the computer. From there they were instantaneously transferred to the central database. Her smile widened at the positive responses the central servers gave to each and every request the small gadget was issuing.

Etta remembered something Eddie had said the day before she left, her grandfather would have been one hell of an asset to the resistance.

In less than a minute, the process was complete. The terminal she had just used was only protected by an old style login system, requiring a username and password to be typed in via the keyboard, there were no biometric readers or showme card readers of any kind. Since the other three terminals on the bench were clearly in the process of being rebuilt, she had no choice but to head back to the first office she had seen to check her ID. Etta disconnected the gadget and left the maintenance office.

She moved silently through the corridors of Fringe HQ, this time listening carefully before she made any turns, she really did not want to bump in to anyone else. Within sixty seconds, she made it to the other office and was once again behind the safety of the closed door.

Taking a seat at the desk, Etta then swiped her hand across the surface, making the embedded terminal come to life. The screen lit up, welcoming 'Andrea Smith'. Once again, her grandfather had delivered.

Etta quickly set to work gathering the precious information she was in such serious need of. She began with a search for detainees on Liberty Island. Four were listed, three men and one woman.

The woman was identified as 'Jane Doe', she tapped the screen for more information. Another field appeared on the screen, though no photograph or no bio data was supplied. Access to the detainee was restricted, personnel would only be admitted with permission from the Secretary of Defence himself. She was being housed in cell seven.

She conducted another search, this time looking for a current blueprint of the Liberty Island facility. Etta took the 3D snapshot device and took pictures of the several blueprints she found.

Her next step was to search for the guard's roster as well as their locations and patrol area. Again, she took pictures.

The final step was to gain the access codes to all restricted areas, cells and elevators, such as the one that lead to the sub-level where her mother was being held.

Etta smiled to herself, she had broken into far more dangerous facilities controlled by the Observers. Nevertheless she remembered the warnings of both Astrid and Donald, about the Walternate of this timeline. She would not underestimate him. But if everything went according to plan, this would be like taking candy from a baby.

She turned off the terminal and got up, making for the exit. She glanced both ways making sure there was no one in sight, then exited and silently closed the door behind her.

"Melissa?" She heard Daniel's voice coming from her left, from the end of the corridor. _'Shit, not again'_ she cursed to herself.

"What are you doing?" he asked walking towards her.

"I'm sorry. I was looking for you, I got lost and ended up here," she said intentionally rushing her words, projecting agitation.

"The bullpen is that way, remember? I showed you a few moments ago," he said indicating towards the direction of the bullpen.

"I...I know, it's just that I got this call and... I'm so sorry Daniel," Etta apologized, trying to sound distressed.

"What? What happened?" he asked. Etta apparently was successful in her deception. Daniel's demeanour changed showing concern instead of the mild suspicion from finding her where she shouldn't be.

"It's my aunt Rachel... my cousin just called me, she's in the hospital and they don't think she will..." Etta shook her head putting her hand over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears on the verge of spilling.

"Oh god... Melissa I'm so sorry."

"She's like a mother to me Daniel," she whispered. "I'm sorry for wandering around, I was looking for you but I..."

"Hey, hey..." He put his arms around her. "It's ok," he reassured her gently rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"I have to go back to Chicago. Daniel, I'm so sorry, I was really looking forward to going out with you."

"Melissa, it's okay. Just promise me you'll call me next time you're in New York."

"I promise."

"Come on I'll walk you out."

They walked side by side in silence until they reached the entrance of the building. Etta turned towards Daniel. "I'm really sorry. I promise I'll make up to you the next time I'm in town."

"Melissa, I told you, it's okay. If it was my aunt..." He shook his head, at a loss for words. "I understand completely."

Etta smiled sadly at him, then she raised herself reaching for his face, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek, freezing Daniel on the spot. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you," she said, then pulled her hand back and walked away with her head down.

Daniel stood at the door, watching her disappear into the crowd.

* * *

Etta's plan was simple. She would cross back to her side and there she would travel to Liberty Island and infiltrate the building. It would be much simpler doing it from her Universe.

She arrived close to Battery Park. Spotting a parking garage she pulled in and found a space. She took her backpack and duffel bag from the trunk then left the Lexus behind, setting off on foot.

Etta walked along the still bustling streets until she reached the park. Once there she began her search for a secluded location to cross over without raising suspicion. The space was largely open, but she was attracted by the East Coast Monument with its towering stone memorial walls, and the trees beyond.

The park was relatively quiet, but even at this hour she saw there were people visiting the monument as she walked towards it. But there was space and cover available and she could bide her time until the right opportunity arose.

She perused the names, hundreds on just this one side of the first enormous granite pylon. Etta sauntered between them and eventually made her way towards the statue. The eagle, crouched and ready to take flight, directly faced Liberty Island. It struck a chord with Etta, who also felt like a predator now she had her target in sight, the Liberty Lady shimmering in the darkness, lit from the ground, resplendent in her coppery magnificence.

When she was sure no one was around, she rounded the nearest pylon, and gently pushed at the fabric between worlds. The crossing was all but effortless and Etta was back in her universe.

Once on her side she strode towards the pier where the ferry to Liberty Island was docked. She cursed to herself when she looked at the schedule. It was now a few minutes past midnight and there would not be a ferry crossing until 8:30am

She pondered on her options. It would be much easier to get inside the premises amongst a group of tourists. Once inside, it would be a simple task to 'get lost' and then reach the area of the building closest to where her mother would be on the Other Side.

The downside of that plan was that from what she had memorized from the guards roster on the Other Side, at 8am the night shift would end, meaning that by the time she would get to her mother, the premises would be full of guards and other personnel.

Also, by then it was probable that Olivia would already be subjected to a round of interrogation or perhaps something even worse. Etta's stomach twisted at the mere thought.

Picking up her luggage once again, she walked out of the park looking for the first coffee shop she could find. As she drank the welcome brew and munched on a pre-packed sandwich, she tried to figure out what to do. She had to get to Liberty Island as soon as possible.

* * *

Having rented a car from a 24 hour rental service, Etta proceeded to withdraw money from an ATM machine with one of her credit cards. She secured her luggage by renting a room at a nearby hotel.

At the hotel she asked for a map of Liberty Island, with the excuse that she was planning a visit the next morning. The bellboy was happy to provide one, especially after receiving a generous tip.

She retreated to her room and took out the 3D snapshot device from her pocket. Etta fumbled a bit with the touchscreen and placed it on the bed. A holographic 3D image of DoD facility was projected above the device, generated from the pictures Etta had taken back at Fringe Headquarters.

Etta unfolded the map showing this side's Liberty Island and taped it to the wall, then returned her attention to the device. She highlighted cell seven with a marker and tweaked the image so only the outline of the building was visible, she altered the position of the unit so that the image was now being projected onto the wall. She then zoomed out a little until the 3D image lined up to overlay the map.

Now she had the perfect picture of how the buildings Over There overlapped with the ones on this side.

Liberty Island in her universe had several small buildings; besides the statue itself; the Statue of Liberty Museum, the bookstore, gift shop and other buildings used by the Park Rangers who patrolled the island.

On the Other Side, there was only one sprawling complex, which all belonged to the DoD. The complex also had two levels, the ground floor and the sublevel.

It was safe to assume that on this side there was no sublevel, although some of the buildings could have basements. Unfortunately the map the bellboy had provided was a tourist map, so from that, it was impossible to determine if any of the buildings had basements.

To make things far more difficult, her mother's cell was housed within the sublevel. Etta studied the 3D image of that level carefully. It appeared the location of her mother's cell over there corresponded to an empty lot on this side. There was no way to cross over directly into her cell.

However, the museum on her side, lined up to the end of the corridor leading to the cells over there. Museums often had basements where they stored old exhibitions. Hence, there was the possibility that if she could access that basement and find the right place, she may be able to cross over directly into that corridor and from there access the cell. This would decrease her exposure time, rather than crossing over via the ground level and then gaining access to the sublevel all on the Other Side. She hoped to minimise the chances of running into the guards.

Etta zoomed back out of the 3D image and then refocused on the ground floor. Once again she studied it carefully against the map from this side. She calculated the best spot to cross over, in case there was no basement in the Museum. This would serve as her Plan B.

She removed the map from behind the 3D image and zoomed out to a wider view once more. This time she took in the whole complex, committing to memory the best escape routes in case, for whatever reason, she was unable to cross back over.

Calling up the roster information, she soon had the guard stations and patrol zones displayed on the map.

Finally she called up the access codes to the doors and elevators, memorizing all the ones which could prove useful to her. She turned off the 3D snapshot device and stored it in her pocket.

Etta sighed, hoping beyond hope, that luck would be on her side.

She took one of the credit cards and the high-clearance showme card from the backpack. She pocketed them along with a flashlight, which she briefly clicked on and off to ensure it worked.

From the duffel she took a Walther PPK, it was compact and good for concealment. She checked the magazine and the slide, ensuring that one was in the chamber before she thumbed the safety. She also extracted an ankle holster for the backup weapon, which she strapped to her left ankle. Holstering the gun, she lowered the leg of her trousers and took a good look to check that it was well hidden.

Etta also extracted an extra clip each for her main weapons and the boxes of corresponding ammo, and sound suppressor for her standard gun. She loaded the clips and distributed the items amongst her pockets.

Finally she took out the two guns she had in rigs strapped on both sides of her torso. First she checked the hyper-velocity gun and then the 9mm Glock. Happy with the inspection she'd performed on both, she re-holstered the weapons and straightened her jacket.

She closed the backpack and the duffel and walked out of the room, locking it behind her.

Next on her preparations list was to get a six pack of beer and a few energy drinks, which she obtained from a 7/11 store not far from the hotel. Now she had everything she needed. Etta drove to the North Cove Marina, near Battery Park. She parked the car and looked around trying to find someone on a boat. She was disappointed to find that aside from a few pedestrians walking by, there was no one else about.

She drove off and headed further north to pier 25 in Tribeca. It was almost 2am by the time she got there.

Etta parked the car and glanced around. From what the bellboy of the hotel had told her, it wasn't uncommon to find people preparing their boats to leave for night fishing trips around that time of the night.

She spotted movement on a small boat docked further ahead near the pear. She grabbed the grocery bag with the cans of beer and energy drinks and set off towards it.

"Excuse-me Sir," she shouted at the man on the boat. He appeared to be in his early fifties. He wore a sailor's cap on his head and scruffy grey stubble covered his face. He wasn't very tall, maybe even shorter then Etta, but he was clearly well built.

"How can I help young lady?" he called gruffly and frowned as he looked down at Etta on the dock.

"I was wondering if you could give me a ride to Liberty Island. I will pay you, of course."

The man squinted at Etta, clearly surprised by the odd request. "Why the hell do you want a ride to Liberty Island at this time of the night? You do know that everything is closed there at this hour."

"My boyfriend works there, he is a park ranger. It's his birthday today and his asshole chief made him work an extra shift because one of his colleagues skipped work. So I wanted to surprise him. He was supposed to leave work at midnight but now he has to stay there until morning. He's devastated." Etta explained giving the man the most charming smile she could muster.

"You're not pulling my chain, are you?" The man took out his cap scratching his head. "Maybe you're one of those fucking terrorists that wants to blow everything up."

"Really? Do I look like a terrorist to you?" Etta asked raising an eyebrow.

"No you don't." He put the cap back on his head. "But you never know, the world is fucking crazy these days young lady. You better head home." He turned around, getting back to whatever he was doing.

"For god sake mister. Do you really think that if I was a terrorist, my brilliant plan would be to trust that I'd find someone with a boat in the middle of the night to get me over to Liberty Island so I could blow up the statue while _no one_ was there?"

The man turned back and stared at Etta, squinting his eyes for a few seconds. "I guess you've got a point. But you could plant a bomb with a timer."

Etta huffed, the man was relentless. "The only thing I have in the bag are energy drinks for my boyfriend, to help him stay awake during his boring-ass shift, and a six pack for when he finishes." Etta tilted the bag towards the man, showing him the contents.

He peered inside the bag and scratched his beard.

"I don't believe that you can make much of a bomb out of beer and caffeine," Etta said smiling at the man.

"I guess," he answered.

"So, how much do you want?"

"Mmm... $200"

"I'll give you $600, and you wait for me to come back. I won't take long."

"You just got yourself a ride Miss."

* * *

They arrived at Liberty Island without incident. Etta jumped off the boat and turned to the man. "I'll be back in one hour, tops."

"If you're not, you'll have to catch the ferry in the morning Miss," the man called as she walked away. She turned to him smiling and gave him a wave with her hand.

Once out of sight she discarded the beer, keeping only the energy drinks. She took one can out and set the bag down near a tree. She drank the contents down in one go.

Refreshed, Etta quickened her pace going straight for the museum. She stealthily skirted the building, avoiding being seen by the few park rangers on duty during the night. She finally found the service door and started working on it with her lock-picking kit. The lock disengaged within a minute and she was in.

She allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness, intending to use the flashlight as little as possible, clicking it on only every now and the while she searched the museum's offices and other 'staff only' areas for an entrance to a basement. After a few minutes she finally found it, a small door that could easily be mistaken for a closet, which opened onto a flight of stairs leading to the basement.

She turned on the light and descended, careful to lower her head due to the low height of the door. Once she reached the bottom, she looked around and began calculating the best spot to cross over to the Other Side.

She did not like what she saw.

The basement wasn't very large, her head almost touched the ceiling. From the information she had gathered from the blueprints, the sub-level on the Other Side was a much bigger space than the basement of the museum. She anticipated that she would definitely take a fall once she pushed through to the Other Side.

But the worst part would be coming back, she risked 'materializing' back on her side with her legs trapped in the floor, probably up to her knees or even higher.

The only option would be to cross back over once she and her mother reached the ground level.

Her next issue was the piles of crates and boxes that were stacked right up to the ceiling, leaving only small corridors to walk inside the basement. She took a good look around her, calculating the position of where the corridor leading to her mother's cell on the other side would intersect in relation to the area accessible in the basement.

Etta positioned herself in what was her best guess of the best spot to cross over.

She took out the Glock and the suppressor, attaching it to the gun then removed the safety. She crouched and put her left hand on the floor for support, hoping to minimise the effect of the drop she anticipated once she hit their side.

Etta took a deep breath and prepared herself for what lay ahead. Then, she crossed over.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to everyone that reviewed and/or read the previous chapter, hope everyone likes this one.**  
**Like always, Crys' help was invaluable. Her editing made everything much better. Thanks mate, you're the best!**  
**See you all on the next chapter.**


	20. Extraction

**Chapter 20 – Extraction**

Olivia lay curled upon herself, trying her best not to fall from the small, uncomfortable excuse of a bed in her cell.

Her hands were sore from all the furious banging she had unleashed upon the glass. But she had given up shouting and pounding at the damned window, begging to be released, not knowing how long she had persisted, or how long it had been since she relented in defeat.

For that matter, she had lost track of time altogether and had no idea how many hours might have passed since her capture.

Tears flowed from her eyes. The quiet sobs were the only thing to break the silence of her dark cell.

She thought of Peter. Had he made it back to their side? If so, would they assume she was dead or would they come for her? Even if they knew, what hope was there that they could get her back? Nick, James and Sally were gone. The only people who possessed the power to bend the fabric of reality were no longer among the living.

She knew Walter was capable of the impossible. He had proved it time and time again. If they had indeed made it safely across, with Peter's help, perhaps they would eventually find a way to cross back again to rescue her.

But even if they were able to complete a second crossing, they would have no way to know where she was being held. She was locked up in a prison that would probably be a high security facility in a secret location. Trying to get her out of here, wherever that may be, would be extremely difficult and there was no network here available for them to tap to help them locate her, or to whom they could turn for resources or assistance. There was only Bell, whom she had to assume that had been captured or killed during the attack. She had to be realistic, she was on her own.

Another chilling and unwelcome thought crept into her mind. Might Peter surrender himself to his father in exchange for her safety? She felt her heart constrict at the mere thought. He couldn't do that. Everything she'd just gone through would prove to have been in vain. She could handle anything destiny might throw at her in return for the safety of her universe and her loved ones, even if it meant spending the rest of her life trapped in a dark cell in this god forsaken universe.

Olivia gently touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. She could still feel the sensation of Peter's lips on hers, the memory of the closeness and comfort of their bodies, locked in an embrace lingered within her.

It had taken her so long to finally come to terms with her feelings for him; too long to acknowledge, too long to act upon them. Now all she had left to console herself with was the memory of one kiss.

Then again, maybe she shouldn't have acted at all.

Throughout her life, love was intermingled with hurt and pain, it had been like that since she was a child. Perhaps she should have known better and expected nothing less.

But that didn't change how lost and alone she felt during the weeks that Peter had been gone. Nor how her heart felt like it had suddenly jolted back to life when, at last, she saw him again when she arrived at the apartment. In that moment all the sorrow and pain was gone, wiped away with just the first glimpse of him. It had given her the courage and determination to do what she should have done weeks, maybe even months, before.

To have the courage to bare her heart to him.

She wiped her eyes of the angry tears still flowing from them. No; it could not end like that, she refused to accept it. There had to be a way. She would find a way.

Olivia forced herself up. Now sitting straight, she breathed against the pain in her chest, inflating her lungs to capacity, working out the despair that she had shamefully allowed to settle there. Commanding herself to gain control of the only thing she could; herself. She fisted her still trembling hands, squeezing forcefully. When she spread her fingers again, the shaking had subsided.

Her immediate thought was of escape. Her mind supplied her with the objective of getting to the Opera House. Walter had picked that specific location because it was a soft spot. They had crossed over together, but now she would have to do it by herself. Perhaps with the recent disturbances there, the soft spot would have weakened even further. That idea gave her hope that she could manage the feat alone. After all, she had done it as a child. Walter had said so, she would just have to do it again. There was no other option.

If fear was her trigger, then she had it in bucket loads, she would just have to find a way to channel it, to make it work for her. She would have to figure out the specifics of her escape as she got to know more about where she was. When an opportunity arose she would be ready to take it.

Olivia raised her head suddenly, sensing a presence outside, near the door. She stood up on legs that felt altogether too rubbery, yet standing and stretching felt good. She flexed her muscles relishing in the loosening of tension it brought, preparing herself to put up a fight, she had absolutely no intention of making her captor's life easy.

When the door slid open, harsh light from outside flooded the dark cell. The dark silhouette of a woman stood at the door, Olivia squinted her eyes trying to get a sense of her face despite the darkness shrouding it. "Olivia?" the woman asked taking a cautious step further in.

Olivia noticed the gun in the woman's hand. Her heart rate picked up, beating faster still as adrenaline flooded her veins. She prepared herself to jump the woman, she would not allow herself to go down without a fight.

The woman must have sensed something and stopped her progression. "I'm here to help. I'm a friend," she said with a low and impossibly calm voice. She kept the gun pointed towards the floor. "Please, Olivia, we don't have much time." Her voice fell away to a whisper, "I have to get you out of here."

That was unexpected, to say the least. A 'friend'? Olivia didn't have friends in this Universe. All her friends were a whole reality away. Who the hell was this woman?

Olivia watched as her 'friend' slowly crouched, reaching for her left ankle taking a second gun from a holster strapped there. She turned the handle towards Olivia offering her the weapon.

Saying that she was puzzled by such an offering was an understatement. What were the woman's intentions? Could Olivia trust her? She guessed she had no better option.

Olivia took a cautious step closer and grabbed the gun. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'll explain everything once we're safe, I promise. But now, we have to go." The woman went back to the door, waiting for Olivia to follow her.

There was no need to say it twice, the FBI agent strode out of the cell. Once outside, she finally had a clear picture of the woman who'd freed her. It was the young girl that had tried to prevent Walternate from taking Peter. Olivia felt relief washing over her. Somehow it felt like finding a friendly face in the middle of a hostile crowd. Which was odd, because she had no idea who the girl was, but something inside her was whispering insistently that she could trust her.

"You're the girl from Noyo County, you were with Peter." Olivia said as the girl led the way, both of them running through the corridor.

The girl skidded to a stop when they reached an elevator controlled by a keypad. Immediately, she punched in a code. "Yes, I'm that girl," she confirmed before she stepped a pace back to keep watch on the space around them. "But I'm not from Noyo County".

"I figured that much. You're from this Universe aren't you?" Olivia asked.

The girl chuckled and positioned herself in front of the door, gun now pointing towards the gap where the doors would slide open, anticipating the arrival of the car. "Nope, I'm not. I'm from yours."

Olivia frowned at the girl's answer, questions burning on her tongue, but she didn't have time to ask them now, the doors of the elevator opened revealing two guards inside.

The girl fired without hesitation. The shot was delivered with a sharp snap, the sound efficiently dampened by the suppressor. The bullet had hit the first of the guards in the right arm. He howled and dropped to his knees cradling his arm to his chest. "Shut up!" she told him authoritatively, even as she swung the gun and held it on the other man. "The next two bullets will be in your brains if you don't do as I say," she said to the astonished guards. "Believe me, I am that fast. You'd be wise not try me." She then nodded to Olivia. "Take their weapons."

Olivia did so. She kept one of the guns and handed the other to the girl. Then stood back half a pace, instinctively covering the corridor. She would let the girl take point.

What Olivia had just witnessed confirmed what she already suspected after seeing the surveillance footage from the motel in Roverville. The girl was more than competent, she had the air of someone experienced in combat and confident in her abilities. However, Olivia was just as confused now as she was then. This girl was such an unknown quantity. Whoever she was and whatever her intentions were, remained a mystery to Olivia. Still they had much more urgent matters to take care of at that moment. Escaping was the priority, questions would come later, if they made it.

The girl pulled a chunky flashlight from her jacket pocket and placed it end on in the track, to the right hand side of the sliding door. It covered the sensor and prevented the door from shutting.

"Out, now." The girl directed the two guards towards Olivia's cell at gun point, then she ordered them to kneel with their faces against the wall, hands behind their heads. The injured guard protested in pain but complied with the order.

"Cover these clowns," she said to Olivia. "Shoot them if they move." The FBI agent stared at the girl, not quite certain of her intentions. She just offered an affirming nod, as to reassure Olivia that she knew what she was doing. Olivia did as she asked.

"Please don't do this miss," one of the guards pleaded with the young woman who had moved into the cell with them.

The girl didn't bother to answer, instead she reached for their right ears and yanked some sort of earring from both of them. "Comm devices," she said showing the small items to Olivia. She stored them in her pocket, then she motioned Olivia to follow her out of the cell. The girl tapped a code into the keypad and locked the cell with the men inside. "Lets go," she said, leading the way back to the elevator, this time without encountering any unexpected surprises.

The girl retrieved the flashlight as they stepped aboard the elevator.

"There's a chance they might be expecting us once we get to the ground floor. I didn't turn off the security cameras because doing so would have attracted the guards to this floor. I was hoping we could get out unnoticed, but unfortunately those two chose the wrong moment to come down. Our little rendezvous may have been caught by anyone watching the surveillance cameras," the girl said still holding the door open.

Olivia nodded and readied herself for a fight, checking her weapons and ensuring they were both ready to fire.

The girl smiled, at last she allowed the doors to slide shut. She unscrewed the suppressor and holstered her weapon, keeping only the one they had taken from the guards in hand. The elevator began its journey upwards.

"Get ready, this is going to get interesting." She gently placed her free hand on Olivia's arm.

Olivia frowned, glancing at the girl and at the firm hand still on her arm, finding the gesture both odd and strangely reassuring. The girl just kept on smiling and turned her attention to the elevator's doors.

The elevator dinged as it came to a stop. Olivia raised her weapons directing them to the space before her, waiting for a target to come into her field of view. It was then that suddenly Olivia detected a weird sensation, eerily like the feeling she had experienced as she stood with the others in the Opera House, preparing to cross over. It felt like moving without taking a step; much like it would if while riding a bike, one were to crash into something solid. The bike would stop suddenly but momentum would cause the rider to continue, to be projected forwards regardless. Olivia felt that sensation of propulsion without moving, as if the whole universe was passing through her.

Everything around her started to fade, yet still for a split second she could see the elevator's doors opening, revealing a multitude of guards in the area beyond all with weapons raised and directed at them. There was shouting, but it was muted, as if coming from a place much farther away. But as fast as she had realised that they were there, everything was gone and they were inside some kind of office, her raised weapons now pointing to nothing more dangerous than a water cooler.

Olivia lowered the guns and looked around, trying to make sense of what she had just experienced. "Where are we?" she asked as her eyes roamed the office. But soon realization dawned upon her. "You crossed us over," Olivia answered her own question.

"Yes, I did," the girl confirmed with a smile. "I promise that I will explain everything to you. We're safe for now, but we have to go. There's a boat waiting for us but it won't wait for long. If we don't hurry, we'll be stranded here on Liberty Island until the morning."

"We're on Liberty Island?" Olivia frowned. She offered the smaller of the two guns back to the girl, who holstered it at her ankle.

"Yes, that was where you were being held captive on the Other Side. It's also where their DoD headquarters are located."

"I see." Olivia gave a single nod. "At least tell me your name. I'd like to know the name of my saviour."

"It's... Henrietta. But call me Etta, everybody does."

"Etta," Olivia smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for coming for me." she said, offering her hand to the girl.

Etta stood quietly regarding Olivia, suddenly seeming much less sure of herself than she had when she'd been confronted with a couple of armed and would be hostile men. The FBI agent frowned slightly at the girl's reaction.

The young woman tentatively reached for her hand. "The pleasure is mine," she said her voice dipping low. Olivia felt puzzled by the emotion she could see in the girl's eyes. Etta looked away and pulled her hand away from Olivia's after giving a light shake, obviously fighting to control whatever emotions were threatening to overwhelm her at that moment. "We better go. We have a boat to catch," Etta said, her words were still strained, though she managed a genuine and relieved smile. She turned away making for the exit. Olivia stood still for a few seconds, her eyes still fixed on Etta's retreating form.

The girl had a lot to explain.

Etta led them through the museum and out into the cool, crisp sea air. Olivia shivered, the breeze cutting through the flimsy clothes she'd woken in when she regained consciousness in the cell, but it felt incredible and she welcomed its bite.

"Etta," Olivia asked as they kept walking. "Do you know if Peter and Walter are ok?"

Etta glanced at Olivia, still keeping up their speedy pace. "Don't worry, they're fine. They made it back to our side. They're probably back in Boston by now."

Olivia felt a weight lift from her heart. Anxiety over not knowing Peter's fate slowly gave way to relief bordering on elation. But still, a sense of apprehension lingered somewhere deep within her, caused by being left behind. But if Peter had gone without her, it must have been because he had no other choice. Getting Peter back safely to their side and preventing Walternate from carrying out his plan for destruction was much more important than her well-being. She was irrelevant compared to safeguarding the world's fate.

She noticed Etta giving her the odd furtive glance as they walked, as if she was trying to figure out what was going on in Olivia's mind.

They slowed to a stop near a tree. Olivia noticed a grocery bag standing at the foot, which Etta bent to retrieve.

"They didn't leave you behind Olivia," Etta said fishing in the bag and withdrawing a can. The FBI agent couldn't hide her surprise at the young woman's statement, apparently she had the ability to read minds too. "Walternate replaced you with the Olivia from the Other Side. Peter and Walter have no idea that they came back with the wrong Olivia." Etta elaborated.

Olivia nodded, until realization dawned on her. "Oh god! Rachel and Ella! They're in my apartment."

"Olivia, calm down." Etta gently grabbed her arm. "The other Olivia... She's not a danger to them. She's actually not a bad person at all, she was misled by Walternate to believe that we're monsters trying to destroy their world. But she would _never_ under any circumstances lay a finger on Rachel or Ella. Even the ones from this Universe."

Olivia nodded once again. Still, she would only have her mind set at ease once she got home and could see for herself that her sister and niece were safe.

Etta offered her the can of what proved to be an energy drink. The FBI agent shook her head "No, thank you. I'm fine," she said frowning at the strange offering.

"Take it," Etta insisted. "It will do you good I assure you. Hopping Universes takes a lot out of you. This will do until we can get some proper food."

Olivia accepted the can, "You do this often?"

Etta took out the rest of the cans, emptying the bag. "Lately, more than I would like," she said without elaborating further. "Drop the gun in here," she requested holding the empty bag open. Olivia did as she asked, then Etta placed her own stolen gun also inside the bag.

"If we show up on the boat with this kind of artillery in hour hands, I'm sure the owner won't be very keen on taking us back to Manhattan," Etta explained to Olivia. The young woman put some of the cans back in the bag to conceal the weapons. She rolled the top down and stuffed the bag under her arm. She turned to Olivia once more. "Come on. We have to get to Boston as soon as possible."

Olivia couldn't agree more.

It didn't take long until they arrived to find the boat still docked. On board a man was crouched fiddling with a fishing pole. He turned in their direction when he heard their approaching footsteps.

The man eyed Olivia, staring at her strange attire. "What is this?" he nodded towards the FBI Agent.

"'This' is a person," Etta glared at the man. "Is there a problem taking an extra passenger back?"

"We only made a deal to bring you here and back, no one else." The man let go of the fishing pole and crossed his arms over his chest.

Etta reached into one of her pockets. She took out a pack of money. "Here," she threw the money at the man. "There's an extra $300 there. For the extra passenger and to ensure there are no more questions."

Olivia was taken aback for the amount of money it would cost the girl to get her to Manhattan. "Etta, it's too much, there's no need..."

"It's ok," Etta cut her off, placing a hand on her arm. "Don't worry," she said with a smile. Then, she turned to the man. "So, are we going or not mister?"

The man eyed Etta with a raised eyebrow. He rifled his thumb through the packet of money, while scratching his beard with his other hand. Finally he shrugged, all of a sudden looking quite satisfied. "Ok, let's go."

* * *

In less than fifteen minutes they arrived at Pier 25 in Tribeca. Little more than an hour had passed since Etta first set off towards Liberty Island on her mission to rescue her mother. Now she was back in Manhattan, in her Universe, with Olivia by her side.

Both women thanked the owner as they disembarked from his boat. Then Etta led the way to her car. Olivia hadn't said much since they had first boarded for the crossing. Still Etta sensed her mother's look of scrutiny as soon as they got into the vehicle. She remembered that look and it made her feel so small again. She knew she had a lot to explain and was afraid of how Olivia might react.

"I just have to pick up my things and then we'll set off for Boston," Etta said as she started the car. "I rented a room in a hotel near Battery Park, so it's not far from here. Besides I have a change of clothes there which you can have, they should make you feel a bit more comfortable. I mean, I know the clothes you're wearing must be the least of your concerns right now, but walking around in a weird prison jumpsuit, can't be very pleasant. Especially for an FBI agent."

"That would be nice Etta, thank you." Olivia nodded and smiled at her.

Etta drove away, heading for the hotel. Olivia kept throwing glances at Etta, still she didn't give voice to what was on her mind. She turned her head towards the window after a while, watching the city lights passing by.

"I thought I would never get back." Olivia said in a low voice.

Etta shot a look at her mother, surprised by her confession. "Don't say that. Even if I hadn't come for you, you would have found a way home."

"You sound so certain." Olivia frowned, turning her attention to Etta.

"I am." Etta cast another look at the woman safely sitting beside her at long last. "You're a remarkable woman Olivia. You're capable of extraordinary things."

Olivia stared at Etta for a few seconds, the frown in her face deepening. "It seems you have an unfair advantage over me," she said after a while.

"An advantage?" Etta raised an eyebrow.

"You seem to know a lot about me and everything that's going on here. But I still know nothing about you." Olivia kept her stare fixed on the young woman.

Etta pulled in and parked the car, having arrived at the hotel. She sighed, "You're right, I do. Let's go upstairs to get my things and some clothes for you. I'll tell you everything when we are on our way to Boston."

Olivia nodded getting out of the car.

Fifteen minutes later, Etta had checked out and they were almost back to the car. Olivia was just about to open the passenger door of the car when Etta approached her.

"Here," she said holding the keys to the vehicle out to Olivia.

The FBI agent frowned at the young girl's gesture.

"You probably know your way around New York and Boston better than I do. If you feel up to it, perhaps it's better that you drive. I think I've have done enough driving the last few days to last me a lifetime," Etta shrugged and smiled at her mother.

Olivia eyed her for a few seconds, "Okay then," she said plucking the keys from Etta's hand. She rounded the car headed towards the driver's side. Soon after, they drove off. Boston was still a few hours ahead.

Etta breathed deeply, building enough courage to begin telling her story, as she had promised Olivia she would. After a few miles with just the sounds of the city and the roar of tires on the road, she turned to the older woman and began. "What I'm about to tell you is... hard to believe, to say the least. Even for someone like yourself who has seen and dealt with the inexplicable for the last two years. Nevertheless it is the truth."

Olivia glanced at Etta briefly. "I just crossed over from another Universe. I don't think there's much that can surprise me anymore."

"Oh, I think this will," Etta said. She exhaled explosively and went for it, "I come from the future."

* * *

**A/N Etta finally meets Olivia. ****Hope everyone liked.  
As always Crys did an enormous job with her editing and additions to the chapter.  
I know I keep repeating myself, but it wouldn't be the same without her. You rule mate!  
**


	21. Forgotten Memories

**Chapter 21 – Forgotten Memories**

_"I know this is too much to process and how crazy it seems, especially after what you have been through the last few weeks. But consider this, if there's a chance that I am right, you have the opportunity to prevent something horrible happening to Olivia. I know how much you care about her. I know very well what she means to you and I assure you that you mean a great deal to her too."_

_Peter shifted his eyes from the young woman. He felt lost and distraught, but he was also afraid of what could happen to Olivia if the girl was telling the truth._

_"I know this because she's my mother." Peter looked back at young woman, swallowing hard, taken aback from what he had heard. She kept smiling. "I'm the living proof of how much you mean to each other."_

Peter sat up startled. The mysterious young woman was now haunting his dreams. He kept having memory flashes of the blonde girl and now he was dreaming about her too. There was something important about her, but the memories kept slipping away, like grains of dry sand through his fingers. He was already having a hard time remembering the details of his dream.

Yellow light of the morning sun poured through the window, bathing his room with warmth and indicating that was well past 7am. It was both comforting and unsettling to be back. This house had been where he had felt at home for the first time in a long while, but that had been before everything went to hell when he'd found out the truth about his origins.

Yet, he was back once again. And even after everything that had happened, being here felt right. Not even in his mother's house, back on the Other Side, had he experienced this kind of familiarity and comfort.

A muffled noise came from downstairs, followed by the distinct sound of pans being shuffled as they were chosen and extracted from the cupboard. It didn't take long for the smell of pancakes to creep up the stairs to awaken his senses, making his stomach growl.

Peter let out a sigh. Having to face Walter was still hard for him. He had avoided talking to the old scientist during much of the trip back to Boston the day before, even after Walter had explained to him the circumstances surrounding his abduction.

But Peter knew he would have to come to terms with it. Deep down he knew and understood that what Walter had done, was only because he couldn't stand to watch his son die all over again. Not while it was within his power to prevent it.

Deja-vu struck him hard once again. Someone had told him precisely that. Peter tried hard to remember who, but he was unable to. It was beyond frustrating, the constant memory flashes of events he had no recollection of and now these maddening deja-vu episodes.

Peter wondered about what he had been told by his biological father while he had been on Other Side; that memory loss was a side effect of crossing over. If that was the case however, then why wasn't he having memory loss again? Since he had crossed back here the day before. This time without any need for medication.

Also, neither Walter nor Olivia appeared to suffer any memory lapses and they had crossed twice in less than forty eight hours.

Maybe something happened before he crossed to the other side, while he was still in his Noyo County hotel room. Perhaps something occurred there which his father didn't want him to remember.

He wondered if the 'treatment' hadn't been treatment at all, just a way to ensure his memory of whatever had happened had been erased. But what could have happened that would lead his father to resort to such extreme measures.

Then again, the man was willing to use his own son to trigger a machine in order to destroy a Universe just for the sake of revenge. To such a driven man therefore, erasing his memories would be nothing more than a mere inconvenience, especially not if it somehow helped achieve his ultimate goal. Peter sighed again. Thinking about his biological father somehow made Walter's actions seem innocent by comparison. And for the first time they seemed less important and somewhat not so damaging.

A thought crossed his mind however; Olivia had experienced memory loss the first time she had crossed over. Of all the lies he had been told on the Other Side, perhaps this was the one truth. Maybe the side effect he was experiencing was a genuine consequence of interuniversal travel.

But something else was distracting him. A nagging feeling that something wasn't _right_ kept tingling somewhere in his senses. He felt it every time he had one of his memory flashes featuring the mysterious girl. Something important he should remember, a warning about someone close to him.

He needed to talk to Walter about it.

Peter got up from bed and padded downstairs. With each step the smell of blueberry pancakes and freshly brewed coffee became stronger and more appetising. By the time he arrived in the kitchen, his senses were swamped. God, how he had missed this. Oblivious to his presence, Walter remained at work over the stove. He expertly handled the frying pan, flipping a pancake with a deft action of his left wrist, sending the golden round flying into the air. A second later he caught it in the skillet, the cake landing with such a satisfying sound, a wet, yet hollow slap.

Peter stood silently, watching the old man cooking. The resentment he had previously felt towards Walter was not as strong as it had been in the days following the revelation of his true origins. He couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the relationship he and Walter had built over the last two years, ever since Olivia had brought him back from Baghdad.

A long path lay ahead before they could get back to where they had been and what they had before.

"Peter!" Walter greeted him a bright smile when, at last, he noticed him leaning against the door frame.

"Hi Walter," Peter said with a slight curl to one side of his upper lip, giving Walter a faint smile.

"I made you breakfast, you must be starving after yesterday's events."

"Thanks Walter, it smells delicious," he said, taking a seat at the small kitchen table, already set for breakfast with assorted tableware and a boggling array of condiments.

Walter's smile widened. He served a few pancakes onto Peter's plate and poured some coffee into his mug. Both men began by eating their breakfast in silence.

"Tell me something Walter," Peter said after a while. The old scientist raised his head, his expression resembling that of a scared child. Yet a wistful smile bloomed upon his face when his eyes met with Peter's. In that moment, he couldn't help comparing this Walter with the other one, his biological father. How different they were.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, buying time to refocus his thoughts by taking a gulp of coffee, there were more important matters to take care of. "Is it possible that crossing over between different realities - like we did yesterday - can cause memory loss?"

Walter looked intently at Peter, considering the question he had been posed. "I really don't see how that could happen," he answered after a while. "But anything is possible, I guess. Why do you ask Peter?"

Peter's brow knit and he shook his head, ignoring the question for now he pursued the thought troubling him, hoping to gain some kind of resolution. "Olivia experienced some memory loss the first time she crossed over," Peter pressed on.

"Yes. Yes, you are correct son..." Walter stopped talking when he noticed the expression suddenly darkening Peter's face.

The anger behind his eyes was impossible to miss, even for Walter, even though Peter tried to hide it as soon as he realized what he'd done.

The old scientist looked like a dear caught in the headlights of a car, when he realized what he had just said. "I... I'm sorry Peter. I didn't mean..."

"Forget it Walter," Peter cut him off. "It's okay," he said trying to muster a reassuring smile. It was a subject he didn't wanted to dwell on just then, he needed to get Walter back on track. "About Olivia, how would you explain her memory loss?" He said, keeping is voice calm.

"Right, yes," Walter paused for a few seconds, his lower lip trembling. "In Olivia's case she suffered a traumatic head injury, one severe enough to put her in a coma; the result of her being thrown through the windshield of her car when she crossed over back to our universe. That was the reason she suffered from temporary memory loss. It had nothing to do with the act of crossing over by itself. It was solely related to the accident."

Peter nodded. Walter's explanation made sense. So why had he experienced it when he crossed over the first time? _That_ didn't make any sense. Unless his father had intentionally caused it, as he was beginning to suspect.

"Why are you asking, Peter? Are you experiencing memory loss?" Walter asked.

Peter took another a sip of his coffee and settled his elbows on the table. "When I first crossed over, the only thing I remembered was waking up on the Other Side. The last memory I have before that, is of the Sheriff of Noyo County dropping me off at the motel I was staying at; on this side. I have no recollection of what happened after that, until I woke up Over There, three days later."

"I see," Walter said, his eyes focused on Peter.

"According to my m..." Peter held back before finishing the sentence, not wanting to upset Walter any further. "On the Other Side, they told me that I had been unconscious for three days and that memory loss could be a side effect of crossing over."

Walter nodded, "They could be telling the truth Peter. Although we know the principle behind the technology they use to cross over..." Walter paused, resting the fork with a piece of pancake on his plate "Remember the buildings that fused in New York? Newton used harmonic rods to make the building from Over There to cross over to our side" He said gesturing with both his hands.

Peter nodded, the memory of that day; the same day they went to Jacksonville, was clear as water in his mind.

"But the effects of such technology on a human subject are still unknown to us. Therefore it is impossible to know the side effects it could cause" Walter concluded, picking up the fork with the piece of pancake, shoving it into his mouth.

Peter nodded once again. "But the strange thing is, I keep having these memory flashes of events that I have no recollection of." Peter sighed, shaking his head "At first I thought that it could be just a delusion, a side effect of the drugs they gave me. But now I believe that it may have really happened and all I can recall are those fragments, remembered incompletely. Somehow I feel that it's related to something important, something that I have to remember."

Walter finished munching the rest of the pancake "I know that feeling too well, Peter," he said with a sad smile. "From what you just told me, I believe the memories are there Peter, in your subconscious. They may partially resurface. Recall triggered by an experience relating to those memories, but since they have likely been repressed artificially by an unknown method, accidentally or otherwise, your brain is having difficulty accessing them."

Peter took a long pull from his mug, deep in thought mulling over what Walter had explained. Both men remained in silence for several minutes during which Peter's frown gradually deepened. "You helped Olivia access the memories of John Scott."

Walter's attention shifted immediately from the pancake in his plate towards the younger Bishop. "Peter, those were different circumstances. Olivia accessed the memories of someone else, not her own. And you know how dangerous that was."

"I know very well how dangerous it was." Peter's tone rose an octave. The recollection of Olivia recklessly going time and again into that godforsaken tank, against his advice and her better judgement, was something that still made him feel uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, shaking the memory away. He resumed his speech with a calmer voice, "I watched Olivia dive in that tank over and over again, risking her sanity Walter. But I have to try. I know that there's something important that I should remember."

Peter got up after draining the remnants of his coffee. "I'm going to take a quick shower, then we're going to the lab. Get yourself ready Walter."

* * *

It only took twenty minutes for them to reach the lab. Walter hadn't said a word since they had left home. He had tried to lodge his objections to Peter's plan before they left the house, but Peter had cut him off with a sharp look.

They entered the lab to find Astrid already at her work station, typing away on her laptop. She raised her head when she heard their footsteps. "I wasn't expecting you guys so early. Actually I thought you would take the day off."

Walter made a bee line to her desk. He leaned towards the FBI agent. "Asterisk dear, could you please try to convince Peter not to go into the tank?"

Astrid frowned at Walter's request, then she looked to Peter for an explanation. "Why do you want to go into the tank?"

Peter was glaring at Walter with his jaw clenched. He turned to Astrid, only then did the bunching in his facial muscles ebb away. "I don't remember how I crossed over to the Other Side. While I was there, they told me that it's normal to experience memory loss, but I think there's more to it. I suspect that they were trying to keep something from me."

"What do you mean? You think that they erased your memory on purpose?" Astrid asked.

Peter shrugged. "I don't know, maybe," he let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I keep having these memory flashes, but I can't quite grasp what they're about. The only thing I remember is the face of a young woman that I've never seen before."

"Young woman?" Astrid raised an eyebrow "You mean a young blonde woman?"

"Yeah that's right. How did you know that?" Peter asked, surprised by Astrid's assumption.

"Because you left the Northwest Passage motel with a young blonde. She used a fake ID to check in and we were never able to identify her."

"I did?"

"You don't remember?"

"No. The last thing I remember from that day is arriving at the motel. Then I woke up three days later on the Other Side."

"So you don't remember crossing paths with your biological father either? At a second motel in Roverville, a few hours after you left Noyo County with the girl?"

"No. I don't even know where Roverville is," Peter said, his exasperation building.

Astrid's concern was also growing. She nodded her acknowledgement. "Here." She tapped a few keys on her laptop and turned it around to Peter. "This is what Olivia was able to find when she went after you, in Noyo County."

Peter watched the footage from both the Northwest Passage and Northern Star motels. His eyes widened when he saw Walternate entering his room at the first Motel, yet he remained silently staring the laptop's monitor.

He looked at Astrid when the surveillance video finished. "You said that the girl used a fake ID?"

"Yes," Astrid nodded. "There was a name in the system, but it wasn't her, the photos didn't match. Therefore, we haven't been able to identify her and we can't find any genuine records for her."

Peter gently pulled the laptop closer and replayed the footage once more. He stopped the image when the girl appeared for the first time and looked intently at the frozen image of her.

"We put out a bolo for her and her car, but she vanished. No signs or sightings of her after that day," Astrid explained, drawing Peter's attention from the screen for a moment. "She killed Newton at the second motel and she managed to evade the deputies who pursued her."

Peter was soon drawn back to the static image, still occupying the monitor.

"Olivia believed that she was trying to prevent your biological father from taking you to the Other Side." Astrid elaborated. "If it wasn't for the girl, he would have intercepted you at the Northwest Passage motel."

Peter clenched his jaw, decision made he turned to Walter. "Prepare everything, I'm going in."

"But Peter..."

"It's not a matter up for discussion Walter," Peter cut him off. He turned to the junior agent. "Astrid I have to know what happened that day. It's obvious that this girl, whoever she is, knew of my father's true intentions. Olivia is right, it's obvious she tried to prevent me from crossing over with him. She must have answers about the machine and about my role in all of this. Please, Astrid, help me find that out."

Astrid looked at Peter and then glanced over at the isolation tank. She remained silent for a few seconds deliberating, then she turned to Peter with a positive nod. "Ok. Let's do this."

* * *

Etta stared at Olivia, waiting for her reaction. She had finished her account of the events that had brought her here, but the FBI Agent had yet to give any sign as to whether she believed, or otherwise, everything that Etta had just told her. Olivia kept her attention fully on the road as she drove on.

Etta had decided not to disclose the truth about her identity for the moment, she figured Olivia already had too much on her plate.

"So you're saying that eventually, when Peter steps into the machine, this timeline as we know it will cease to exist?" Olivia asked, her still eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Yes."

"No one will remember what happened in this timeline?"

"Not exactly." Etta explained "The new timeline will be identical to this one, but a few details will change. Peter won't be there for starters, because he will be erased."

"But you said he will be brought back." Olivia said and Etta nodded confirming her statement. "How?" the FBI agent queried.

"You." Etta answered with a certainty that caused Olivia to glance sharply at her with a frown. "You will bring him back. You have a very strong connection with him," the young woman elaborated. "The same way he has a bond with you. Even without remembering who he is in the new timeline, your subconscious is unable to let him go and because of that, he is drawn back."

"I see," Olivia said her eyes once again back at the road. "But you're here to prevent the reset of the timeline from occurring," she prodded after a few seconds in silence.

"Yes. That event will cause the mutation to the Observer's DNA. And that will be the trigger for them invading our world," Etta explained.

"So if you prevent the reset, the mutation never happens..."

"...And the Observer invasion never takes place," Etta completed. "That is basically the plan." she added giving Olivia a light smile.

"So Peter won't be erased if you succeed."

"Exactly."

"I like your plan." Olivia said smiling back causing Etta to chuckle.

"I have to be honest," Olivia said after a few moments of thoughtful silence. "It really is hard to believe in your story, even for me."

Etta nodded, her smile faltering.

"I like to think that I am a fairly competent investigator," Olivia continued. "And while it is hard to believe, the evidence indicates that you're probably telling the truth."

The FBI Agent glanced briefly at Etta then back to the road. "You knew Walternate would be expecting Peter back at the Northwest Passage motel and you have a great deal of knowledge about the machine. The drawing you have in your possession is identical to the one the Observer gave to me."

Olivia turned to Etta, a smile lingering on her lips. "That said, it could mean that you're either telling me the truth, or that you are an Observer. You're way too pretty to be an Observer, so I'm inclined to believe you."

Etta smiled back, lowering her head. "Thank you," she said shyly.

"Tell me something," Olivia prompted. "How were you able to convince Peter of your story? Typically he can be quite sceptical." The FBI Agent wrinkled her nose as she continued, "I can't really picture Peter going all in, not so easily. Yet, he was coming back with you after you intercepted him. He seemed to trust you."

Etta let out a sigh. "He didn't believe me at first and I wasn't expecting that he would. As I told you, I showed him the copy of the drawing like the one the Observer left you and explained to him what the consequences for you would be if he crossed over. He was willing to come with me because of that. He may not have been one hundred percent convinced I was telling the truth, but even in his uncertainty, he didn't want to risk something so horrible and avoidable, happening to you."

"I see," Olivia gave a slightly shy smile. "But he believed in you, just like that, just because you told him what would happen to me?" Olivia asked with a probing glance at Etta.

"Not exactly," Etta let out another heavy sigh. "I told him that I could prove it."

"How?" Olivia pressed. She could sense the enormity of whatever the girl was withholding.

Etta pinched her nose, the conversation was veering uncontrollably in just the direction she was intending to steer it from. But she also knew how perceptive and persistent her mother could be. She decided to give her something, a half-truth. "I'm related to Peter. I told him that he could test my DNA to prove it."

"Related how?"

Etta sighed again. She pondered on lying; telling her that she was a cousin of Peter's. Even though she had gained her trust, Etta didn't want to risk losing it by lying to her mother. But disclosing her true identity was still a risk, she had no idea how Olivia would react to it.

"I'm his daughter."

* * *

Olivia gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening under the pressure she was exerting upon the leather. She had a slight suspicion that the girl was related to Peter ever since she had seen her in the footage of the Northwest Passage motel. Now that she had met her in person, that impression had only strengthened. The resemblance was uncanny. She had Peter's eyes and even some of his quirks. Nevertheless, Olivia had never imagined that she could be his daughter.

But something else was causing her stomach to churn. _'Is she a relative of yours? A cousin perhaps?'_ Walter had asked her when he'd first seen Etta's picture back in Roverville.

Olivia's brain was already making the connections. Etta was able to crossover between realities by herself, she had either been dosed with Cortexiphan as a child, or she could have inherited it from one of her parents. Olivia knew that would not have been a characteristic she could have acquired from Peter.

Added to that, was the fact that Etta had gone to great lengths to save her, at great risk to her own life; it was becoming obvious that Peter wasn't the only one with a connection to the young girl.

Olivia took a deep breath, bracing herself for what she was about to ask, already having a strong suspicion of what the answer would be. She turned to Etta. "I'm your mother, aren't I?"

Etta gawped at Olivia, unable to speak.

The FBI agent pulled the car over to the side of the road. Once she'd brought it to a halt, she let go of the wheel and reached for Etta's hand. "Tell me the truth Etta," she urged gently squeezing her hand in her own.

Etta's eyes were shining. "Yes, you are." She looked away from the weight of Olivia's gaze, trying to hide the tear rolling down her cheek.

Deep down in her gut Olivia knew it was the truth. Before, she had seen only the resemblance to Peter, but upon allowing that certainty to settle, she saw that her own likeness was overwhelming. Not only that, but now she could recognize attributes of her personality within Etta; determination and fearlessness. It didn't surprise her in the slightest that the one sent to the past to try and solve the mess created by others, would be her daughter.

Olivia dreamed of having children, but it was a prospect that frightened her. She wondered what implications there might be for them, considering the kind of life she'd had and possible influences of all the experiments conducted on her during her own childhood. Since she had first discovered about her involvement in the Cortexiphan trials, the idea of passing the drug on to her offspring terrified her. Now she was face to face with the living proof that her deepest fears would become a reality.

Etta had the abilities, Olivia had witnessed them first hand and because of that she was the one burdened with the task of trying to save a condemned world. Ultimately, it was Olivia's fault. She was the one that had passed – or would pass - those abilities on to her child, which in turn would make Etta the perfect soldier to protect the world. Just as they had intended her to be; like mother, like daughter.

Olivia focused her scrutiny on Etta, who was still trying to hide her tears. She was overcome with a profound sense of sadness and guilt. Everything that had happened to Etta, every ordeal, every sacrifice she'd made was probably a direct result of the fact that she was undeniably different. Some might say that Etta was special, but Olivia never found anything special about the abilities. Often she thought of them as a curse; harbouring the power to travel between worlds, or having the potential to set things on fire with her mind. Olivia was sure Etta's abilities were the only reason that the fate of the world had settled upon her shoulders alone. And _that_ was only because she was _her_ daughter.

Olivia unbuckled her seat belt and then Etta's. She reached for her daughter, putting her arms around her, pulling her in close. Etta melted into the embrace and rested her head upon her mother's shoulder. Olivia planted a reverent kiss on Etta's head. She held her in a fierce hug, supporting the young girl as she crumbled, her body hitching as she sobbed against her.

* * *

The feel of her mother's embrace was all-encompassing. Etta was unable to hold at bay all the emotions she had kept bottled up inside of her since all this had begun. Her mother was there and she could feel the love emanating from her as she held her close.

She cried out of relief and happiness, for having back what she thought had been forever lost to her.

She cried out of sadness, remembering everything and everyone she had left behind, those that she would never see again. All the sacrifices she had made in order to be where she was now.

Etta felt Olivia's hand on her head, gently caressing her hair. The simple gesture triggered an immense sense of comfort and tranquillity in Etta, something she hadn't experienced in such a long time. It was a feeling she thought had been long forgotten. But the memory of snuggling in her mother's lap when she was a child came rushing back to her. Etta was home.

She could have stayed forever like this in Olivia's arms, but Etta knew that they didn't have the luxury of time. She reluctantly pulled back, breaking the embrace. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed by her display of emotion.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Olivia smiled at her keeping her eyes fixed upon Etta. After a few seconds the FBI Agent re-buckled her seatbelt and grabbed the steering wheel "Now, let's go hunt an impostor," she said keeping the smile on her lips. Olivia turned her attention to the road and jammed her foot on the gas pedal.

* * *

After a long drive, they arrived at Olivia's apartment shortly after eight thirty in the morning. The spare key that Olivia kept on the doorframe had been removed. She huffed frustrated when her fingers found nothing more than dust on the slim ledge. She knew exactly who had taken it.

Etta reached into her jacket pocket and took out her lock picking kit. She handed it to Olivia with a nod. The FBI Agent smiled and grabbed the black leather pack.

In no time, the door was open and both women entered the apartment, silently canvassing each division with a gun in hand.

Olivia's place was, for the moment, empty. No one was there to be found.

"Someone slept in my bed," Olivia said as she retreated from her bedroom. She crossed the hallway moving to her spare room where her sister had taken up temporary residence. Olivia looked around, noticing the neatly made bed. Rachel didn't do making beds, she was a messy, and slightly chaotic person by nature. "Rachel's room doesn't seem to have been used," she reported.

Etta watched from the entrance, "Aunt Astrid and Donald didn't mention anything about her being here, or not, when the other Olivia was here. Sorry," she said with a wince. She knew how worried her mother had been about the two of them. Despite her assurances that AltLivia wouldn't harm them, Etta guessed that she still had her own niggling doubts.

Olivia locked eyes with her daughter sensing her concern. She shook her head frustrated. "Rachel was here with Ella when I left. She didn't say anything about leaving." She went to the closet wrenching the doors open. "Her things aren't here, neither are Ella's."

Olivia marched to the living room, franticly looking around for any clue as to their whereabouts. Etta followed her, feeling uncomfortably useless.

"What are you looking for?" The young girl asked watching Olivia going through the items she found lying around the room.

"If Rachel had to leave in a hurry, for whatever reason, she must have tried to contact me. I didn't take my phone to the Other Side; it wouldn't work of course; so she would have left a note."

Etta nodded and started searching too, trying to find something resembling a note. She noticed a piece of balled up paper in the small waste paper basket near the sofa. She picked it up and unfolded it enough to see that there was a hand written note on it. "I think this could be what you're looking for," she said tossing it to her mom.

Olivia took the paper from Etta and carefully unravelled it. She relayed the information to Etta as she read. "She had to go to Chicago, her idiot ex got himself in trouble again. She tried to contact me with no success, as I expected. I have to call her later." She folded the note and put it in her jacket pocket, feeling altogether more reassured now she knew that her family hadn't been subjected to the dangers of living with an imposter in extremely close quarters.

Etta felt the pressure ease too, although the way Olivia referred to her uncle Greg made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She knew that her aunt was divorced in this timeline, but it was still strange hearing it. She had fond memories of her Uncle. He wasn't the most forthcoming person and her aunt and him had the occasional couple's fight every once in a while. But he had always provided for them, even in a crumbling world ruled by the Observers. He always treated her like she was his daughter, he made no difference between her and her cousins. Despite his faults, he was a good person. Etta remembered the day Ella died, it was the only time she had seen her uncle Greg cry.

Etta shook the memory away. She took a moment to look around her mother's home, mentally taking note of every detail of her apartment.

"You were never here, I mean, in your timeline?" Olivia asked, noticing Etta's roaming eyes.

"No, we lived in Brookline in a two story house. You guys moved after you discovered you were pregnant with me."

"Brookline? Really?" Olivia asked first with a frown, then a playful smile blossoming on her face.

"Yeah," Etta confirmed with a nod.

"I always liked Brookline," Olivia said, her smile widening.

Etta smiled back at her mom. Memories of her childhood in their old house stirred in her mind. Then also those from an altogether darker time. "I went back there when I returned to Boston." She said, her eyes roaming the apartment, yet her mind was far away in another time. "It had been looted, pretty much like all the other houses on the entire block. I guess... I just wanted to find something to remind me of the life I had before. Something that could remind me... of my parents."

Olivia watched the young woman walking slowly around her living room, recounting old memories of things yet to happen. The look in her eyes carried the unmistakable burdens of loss and longing.

"I found this upstairs, in what used to be your bedroom, tucked away in a matchbox." Etta pulled a small, slightly misshapen spent bullet, attached to a thin gold chain from where she wore it hidden inside the neck of her sweater. "At the time I guessed it must have been important, otherwise you wouldn't have kept it." She slipped it over her head and handed it to her mother.

Olivia frowned looking at the strange and unfamiliar item. "A bullet? Why would I keep a bullet in a box?"

"I only found out why after Donald found us and I met Aunt Astrid." Etta said, feeling a chill as she watched the bullet being rolled between her mother's finger and thumb. "According to her, dad used to call it 'The Bullet that saved the world'."

"Really?" Olivia asked intrigued. Wondering what circumstances would lead Peter to giving such a name to a bullet.

Etta hummed her confirmation and nodded.

"Why?"

"Remember, I told you about what happened after the reset? William Bell devised his demented plan to create a new universe from the destruction of two existing ones."

"Yes, to be populated by a new set of creatures of his own creation." Olivia supplied, recalling what Etta had told her a few hours before.

"Exactly. What I didn't tell you is how he intended to achieve this, nor how he was ultimately stopped," Etta paused for a few seconds gathering her thoughts. "He conspired to secretly dose you with massive amounts of Cortexiphan. He intended you to serve as a catalyst to power the construction of the new universe."

Olivia stared at her daughter, "Why doesn't that even surprise me?" she asked shaking her head.

"But Walter figured out a way to put a stop to the process," Etta continued. "He shot you in the head. He put that bullet through your brain. He killed you."

"What?" Olivia's eyes widened at the revelation.

"I had the exact same reaction when Aunt Astrid told me," Etta smiled. "It also happens that Walter had already figured out something else before he fired that shot. Cortexiphan has highly regenerative capabilities and like I told you before, you had massive amounts of it in your system at the time, thanks to Bell and what he was doing to you."

"And it was enough to bring me back from the dead?"

"Yes. After shooting you, and so ending the process designed to collide and destroy the two universes, Walter was able to remove the bullet from your skull. Thanks to the Cortexiphan, your brain healed in a matter of seconds and you were resurrected. According to Aunt Astrid you were clinically dead for about four minutes."

"My god."

"Actually, we were both dead," Etta left the statement hanging.

Olivia suddenly looked ashen. "What?"

"You were already pregnant with me when this happened. Although you only found out once you reached the hospital, after Walter had shot you."

Olivia looked at the projectile she still held between her fingers. "And this is the bullet I was shot with?"

"Yes. The bullet that saved the world. Or both worlds if you think about it."

Olivia stared at Etta momentarily dumbfounded. "We definitely have to stop that damned reset," she said after a few seconds of contemplative silence.

"We will," Etta assured her with a smile and a confident nod.

Olivia handed the bullet and chain back Etta. "We should go, there's nothing else we can do here," she said heading for the front door with Etta on her heels.

* * *

_"Close your eyes and try to relax, Peter"_ Walter's voice echoed inside the tank, coming through the speakers.

"The water could be a bit warmer," Peter groused, feeling shivers ripple through his body.

_"Shush and clear your mind Peter. It's important you stay focused and relaxed. Just follow my instructions."_

Peter sighed and closed his eyes, trying to forget how cold he felt. He wondered how Olivia had done it so many times, without a word of complaint. She was truly a remarkable woman. She had proved it time and time again.

He remembered the first time she had gone into the tank. He watched her go in without giving a second thought to her own safety. All for the man she loved. Peter remembered feeling somewhat envious of John in that moment, for having such an extraordinary woman in his life and being loved so fiercely by her.

During the weeks that fallowed John's death and as Peter got to know Olivia better, his admiration for her only grew. He remembered fantasizing about how it could have been if their paths had crossed sooner, before she had met John. Would she have fallen in love with him? He was sure that he would have fallen for her, in a heartbeat.

As his thoughts wandered, the drugs must have started to kick in, because it was then that Peter found himself in the middle of a field of flowers. It was night time; everything around him was grey blue except for the white flowers surrounding him, which looked almost fluorescent in the ghostly light. A mild wind blew making the stalks of the flowers bend slightly under the weight of their heavy heads. White tulips.

_"Sorry Peter, I was trying to find my red vines. I'm gone for two days and someone decides to find a better place for them!" _Walter's indignant voice echoed once more through the speakers.

_"You put them there Walter!"_ Peter could hear Astrid's mildly irritated reply from afar. _"You were afraid someone could steal them while you were gone!"_

Peter shook his head and smiled. He looked around and noticed a young girl seated amongst a carpet of flowers, not far from where he stood. He frowned at the sight.

_"Then it's good thing I did, otherwise I wouldn't have any left now. I need my red vines to concentrate."_

"Walter!" Peter snapped, while he walked towards the girl.

_"Oh, right, right. Now Peter, think about the last memory you had before you woke up on the Other Side."_

"Walter, I think I'm already accessing a memory."

_"You are? Good, good. Then let it play Peter. Remember you cannot interact with it."_

Peter had come close enough to hear a quiet sob coming from the girl. Her long blonde hair flowing in the wind. He knelt in front of her.

The flowers in a three meter circle around her were charred and burnt. She raised her head, looking at Peter, or rather, through him. She had an ugly black eye and tear strains on her face. It was obvious that something horrible must have happened to the girl. Her sad green eyes flicked up and Peter felt for all the world like they had just met his own, causing goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.

Peter swallowed heavily. She wasn't the girl haunting his dreams, the one he'd supposedly met in Noyo County. Nor did he have any memory of _this_ young girl sitting in front of him, or of ever being in that tulip field.

Yet there was something strikingly familiar about her, the field and this moment.

Peter looked around him trying to identify where he was. It definitely wasn't Noyo County.

"Walter, I'm supposed to access my memories right?" he said out loud.

_"Yes, yes, precisely. What are you seeing?"_ Walter asked through the intercom.

"I'm in a field of some kind. I don't remember ever being here."

_"Just let it play Peter, it's okay if it feels strange. Remember that you are accessing a memory that has somehow been repressed."_

"Hi," Peter heard from behind him before he could answer Walter. He looked around and a young boy with blue eyes was standing not far from him, he too was staring at the girl.

"Hi," the girl answered. "How did you find me?"

"I guess tulips don't normally grow around here." The boy showed a drawing of a tulip field, unmistakably made by a child. Though it was easily recognisable as a place very much like the one they were in.

"But... how'd you know I'd come here?" The girl asked looking at the drawing.

"Because it's the only drawing that looked happy." The boy answered. The girl looked down, out of sadness, or shame perhaps, Peter wasn't sure.

"My name's Peter," the boy said.

"What?" Peter turned his attention to the boy, not quite sure he had heard right.

"Mine's Olivia," the girl answered.

"What the... How is this possible?" Peter stared at the girl.

_"What is it Peter?"_ Walter asked through the intercom. Peter remained silent, staring at the young couple and trying to make sense of what he was seeing playing out before him.

Young Peter took a few steps towards young Olivia.

"Don't... Be careful," she said as he stepped closer.

"I'm not scared," the boy said crouching down to sit beside her. "What happened?" he questioned when he noticed the black eye the girl was sporting.

"My step-dad did it."

"Oh god," Peter felt his stomach plummet when he heard young Olivia's answer. "How is this possible?" he asked once more, closing his eyes trying to fight the emotions warring inside him, he needed to keep focused on the memory.

_"Peter what's happening? Is everything alright?"_

"Everything's okay Walter, don't worry," Peter said, his voice straining from emotion. "Everything's okay."

"So... everyone's looking for you," young Peter said.

"I messed up..." young Olivia said her voice strangled, on the verge of tears. "And now he's gonna send me home."

"Who?" Young Peter asked.

"Dr. Walter."

"Did you tell him... Walter, I mean, about your step-dad hitting you?"

"I don't think it'd do anything." Young Olivia shook her head.

"My mo... My mom was telling me you got..."

"...to imagine how you want things to be." Peter said in sync his younger self. "And then you can try and change them." He smiled sadly to himself. "I remember now Olivia." He reached for her face with tentative fingers, although he knew he could not touch her. He gently followed the contour of her young face, feigning the caress he was unable to give. "You'll be okay sweetheart," Peter said in a tender voice so small that Walter would not hear him.

He stood in silence watching the memory unfold, the events of that day from so long ago, by now already clear in his mind.

Peter waited until the snow started to fall and smiled when he saw the younger versions of himself and Olivia holding hands.

"Walter" Peter said out loud as the rest of the memory faded. He opened his eyes finding himself inside the tank. "You said I had to focus on the last thing I remembered before I woke up on the Other Side."

_"That's correct Peter. But you said you were already accessing the memory."_

"I was, but it was the wrong memory."

_"Really? Fascinating. What was the memory about?"_

"Nothing important," Peter deflected. "I'm going to try focusing on the last thing I remember from Noyo County."

_"Okay, but don't take too long Peter, you've already been there for quite a while."_

Peter closed his eyes, thinking about Noyo County and the ride Sheriff Mathis had given him to the Northwest Passage motel. He recalled the smell of the car - like wet dog and damp woody earth - and the clatter of ever present rain on the roof and windshield.

A parking lot appeared before him. He recognized it instantly, it was the one from the motel. He saw himself getting out from the Sheriff's vehicle and walking towards his room. Peter following a few steps behind his other self, from this position he noticed when a young woman walked towards him. It was _the_ young woman.

"I see her Walter! She really was expecting me at the Northwest Passage motel," he said excited by the discovery.

_"Good. That's good Peter! Now keep yourself focused on the memory."_

"Peter Bishop?" The girl asked.

"Who are you? What do you want?" his other self asked, instantly suspicious. "Did Broyles send you?"

Peter watched as the girl raised her hands, obviously to show she posed no threat to him. "No, Broyles didn't send me. I just need to talk to you, it's very important that you listen to what I have to say. I came a long way just to do this, many people risked their lives so I could be here."

Peter watched his other self frown at the girl's answer. He was pretty much feeling the same way, puzzled by what the girl had just said.

"Risked their lives? What are you talking about? And you still haven't told me who you are." Memory Peter said.

"No I haven't," the girl replied. "My name is Henrietta, Henrietta Bishop. But you can call me Etta."

Peter's eyes snapped when he heard the girl's name "Etta!" he said. The dam had broken and the memories of the events in Noyo County and Roverville flooded into his consciousness. "Holly crap!"

_"What is it Peter?"_ Walter asked urgently.

"It worked Walter! I remember now!" He said excited.

_"Good! Good! I'm going to bring you out of the tank then."_

"Not yet Walter. I want to watch the memory play in its entirety. It's important I remember everything correctly. Don't worry, it won't take long."

_"Okay Peter. But at the least sign of stress I'm pulling you out."_ The old scientist informed him.

Peter watched as Etta tried to convince him not to go to the other side with his father, warning him what would happen to Olivia if he did.

_'Olivia!' _Etta's warning. Everything had happened exactly as she had told him it would. That meant that Olivia was trapped on the Other Side and that the Olivia that came back with them was not _their_ Olivia. They had been swapped.

"Walter! Get me of here. Now!"

* * *

Olivia and Etta arrived at the parking lot near the lab. The FBI Agent took a good look around. "My car isn't here."

"She's probably at the FBI office, or maybe at the typewriter antique store, contacting the Other Side." Etta said as she exited the car.

"Let's hope it's not the latter, otherwise she may find out that I escaped and that her cover might be compromised." Olivia headed for the lab, motioning for Etta to follow her. "Either way I'd rather be safe than sorry. Let's make sure she's not here."

They reached the lab. Olivia took out her gun, opening the door slowly. Etta followed suit, gun in hand also.

Olivia could hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping. Walter and Astrid were huddled together, monitoring machines that were only used when someone was in the sensory deprivation tank. She took a look at her office. The door was open and apparently no one was there. She signalled Etta to canvass the office. The girl moved with admirable stealth as she quickly made her way to the door and vanished beyond the threshold.

Meanwhile Olivia took a good look around the lab, but could find no signs that the other Olivia was, or had been here. Walter and Astrid continued to watch the screens monitoring the isolation tank, oblivious to her presence.

_"Walter! Get me out of here. Now!"_ A voice shouted through the speakers from inside the tank.

"Peter?" Olivia blurted when she recognized the distress in the younger Bishop's voice. What was he doing in the tank?

"Olivia?" Astrid turned in her direction, a deep frown on her face when her eyes settled on Olivia's gun.

In that moment, Peter started trashing inside the tank. "Oh dear! We have to get him out!" Walter shouted and rushed towards the tank.

Olivia holstered her gun and quickly joined Walter. They heaved the heavy doors open, then each reached in for one of Peter's arms. Together they pulled him out.

He shook convulsively, franticly looking around with wide, panicked eyes. Walter pulled the shaking and severely distressed Peter against him. Meanwhile Astrid quickly prepared and administered a shot to stabilize him.

Olivia gently brought her hand to cup Peter's face. "Peter, look at me."

His breathing slowed and the tremors receded. His eyes came to rest on Olivia, looking coldly at her. "You're not her!"

"What?" Olivia frowned, confused by his statement. Peter shook her hand from his face.

"Walter, she's not our Olivia." He tried to get up but Walter kept holding him tight.

"Calm down son, you're still under the effect of the drugs."

"I'm telling you, she's not our Olivia!" Again he tried to push himself up, but had yet to regain full control of his sluggish limbs.

"Peter!" Etta shouted. Until then she had remained a few feet behind without being noticed by the others. All eyes shifted to her. "It's okay, she is _your_ Olivia. I brought her back." Etta smiled at Peter.

Astrid and Walter could only stare dumbly at the young woman.

"You're alive" Peter said in a low voice. He slowly got up, feeling a helping hand on his arm as he freed himself from Walter's grip. The presence lingered at his shoulder, but his attention was only on the girl as he walked shakily towards Etta.

"I heard the shots in the motel in Roverville. I was afraid that Newton had killed you." Peter threw his arms around her, "I'm so happy you're okay," he said his words muffled by her hair.

Etta could have cried right there. She shook her head against his wet chest. "I'm fine," she assured him. They broke the embrace, Etta kept her brilliant blue eyes on her father. "So you remember me?" He smiled and nodded. "You know who I am?" Etta pressed on.

"Yes," he confirmed sounding slightly hysterical. "And you were right about everything."

Etta remained in silent regard, soaking up the sight of him with eyes shining.

"Thank you for bringing Olivia back" Peter said gently caressing Etta's hair then her face.

Olivia picked up a towel and slowly approached Peter. "Einai Kalytero Anthropo Apo Ton Patera Toy," she said draping the towel around Peter's shoulders. He turned around to face her. "Be a better man than your father. I said that to you when I woke from my coma."

"Olivia," Peter swallowed heavily. He cupped her face with his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"You had no way to know," she said leaning into his hand.

"Okay, can someone explain what the hell is happening here?" Astrid said. Walter remained silent, his eyes sharply focused on Etta.

Peter and Olivia exchanged looks, an amused smile on their lips.

Peter turned to the junior agent. "Astrid, Walter, meet Henrieta Bishop," He said stepping aside to let them see her clearly. "Our daughter."

* * *

**A/N Consider this my early Christmas present. Crys was awesome like always, her contribution made this chapter way better. And on top of that, she managed to return it to me way before I was expecting. You rock mate! Thanks to everyone reading, following and reviewing the story.  
I like to answer every review, but since I can't do that with guest reviews I doing it now. Thanks for your review Ruben, it means a lot and motivates me to keep the story going.  
****I hope everyone likes the new chapter.**

** Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!**


	22. Family Reunion

**Chapter 22 – Family Reunion**

The Secretary was not a happy man. Presently, he was supposed to be on his way to DC, enjoying all the comforts and hospitality his private jet and his inflight crew could offer. Instead, his morning meetings at the Capitol had to be cancelled and now he fumed as he strode towards the reception area adjoining his office, situated on the south side of the Liberty Island complex.

Major Warner, his administrative assistant, was stationed at her desk, while a military man nervously occupied the remaining floor space, as he paced the length of the reception area back and forth.

"Major Sorensen, with me," Walternate said curtly addressing the pacing man, moments after bursting through the door leading from the corridor. His approach took both Warner and Sorensen by surprise, though Sorensen was the only one to flinch.

Sorensen quickly followed him to his office. Warner watched the two men without raising her head, all the while she kept working the virtual keyboard of her terminal, though her attention was all but entirely consumed by Secretary Bishop. The man seethed with indignation so powerful she felt sure she could sense it pulsing from him, radiating out in waves.

The pair entered the Secretary's office, with Walternate taking a seat behind his desk. Sorensen shut the door, then stood stiffly at attention before of him. The Secretary cut right to the point, "Major Sorensen, care to explain how the prisoner managed to escape incarceration from the headquarters of the DoD?"

Sorensen swallowed heavily and hesitated with an involuntary, "Uh," escaping from him before he could bring himself to answer coherently, "Sir... We are still trying to ascertain exactly how she managed to escape. But we were able to determine that she had help from an unknown subject."

Walternate placed his elbows on the arm supports of his chair and interlaced his fingers above his chest, then he reclined further. His scorching stare still fixed upon Sorenson. "This is a very serious situation Major. The prisoner is extremely dangerous. She must be captured immediately."

"Yes Sir. I assure you we are doing everything we can to ensure she is reacquired quickly."

"For your sake, I hope that you are," Walternate left the threat hanging for a moment, but he wanted the man out of his sight before he really lost his temper. "You are dismissed Major," Walternate said with a contemptuous wave of his hand.

"Yes Sir." The military man saluted, then scurried from the office without looking back.

The Secretary stood after the man exited, walking towards the drinks cabinet. He didn't expect that the other Olivia would get very far, not with the disadvantage of being trapped in a foreign Universe. Still, having the doppelgänger of Agent Dunham running around on the loose was a worry and could still cause a threat to his plans. She, and the interference from this 'unknown subject' could not be taken lightly.

He poured himself a generous measure of whiskey and took a fortifying sip. His eyes diverted towards the small table on the other side of his office. Just the day before he had shared a drink with Peter at that same table. Now his son was gone once again. The difference was that, this time, it had been of his own accord.

Peter had already hinted that he wasn't willing to play along with the plan when they first met in the other universe, forcing the Secretary to bring him to his home world against his will. It also meant that he had to put into action the contingency measure of administering a drug regime, one that he felt sure would erase Peter's memory of his initial resistance and therefore, with calculated manipulation, would ensure his compliance.

Yet even after having his memory wiped, somehow, Peter had chosen the Other Side once again.

If that was his choice, then so be it. He would suffer alongside all those who had inflicted so much damage and pain upon this Universe. The defence and wellbeing of the people of this world took precedence over everything and everyone else. And that could only be accomplished with the total and complete destruction of their enemies. Even if that meant destroying an entire Universe and his own son with it.

But Peter's escape to the other side was a blow. Without him, activating the Machine would be problematic. Still, there was hope that he would find a way around it. Besides, the fact that Peter had chosen the other universe, meant that it would be impossible to predict, with any degree of certainty, what the consequence of that choice may have been if indeed he had stepped into and activated the Machine.

It was imperative that he find another way to activate it. The plan could not be compromised.

However, if no other option became viable, they may be left with no other choice but to recapture Peter. With Agent Dunham successfully suffused within the enemy's ranks, they could always resort to kidnaping and drugging him once again, this time with a higher and more intensively administered course, to make him do what must be done; to destroy the Universe that threatened the very existence of their own.

It was of the utmost importance to go through the surveillance footage of Peter's apartment. Hidden cameras had been installed and unknown to the younger Bishop, recorded everything that he did and said during the time he spent there while studying the Machine. Something useful may yet come out of it.

But for now, every effort should be focused on apprehending the other Universe's Agent Dunham.

The Secretary sidled back to his desk, pondering his options; should he involve Fringe Division in the hunt for the escapee and her, as yet, unidentified accomplice? If it came to that, he should ensure that a back story would be carefully formulated and presented to the other Agents, since only Colonel Broyles was aware of this Dunham's true identity.

Before he had made up his mind, his ear-cuff buzzed interrupting his scheme building. "Yes?" he snapped having tapped it briefly to answer the call.

"Sir, it's Brandon. There's something I think you should see."

Walternate smirked. Fayette would not call unless he had something significant. Perhaps this would give him the advantage he was searching for. "I'll be right over." He held on to that, still delicate, hope as he made his way to the DoD's laboratories.

"What do you have that is so important Dr. Fayette?" he demanded as he burst into the stark white lab, approaching Brandon's desk.

"Good Morning Mr. Secretary. I'm sorry to bother you, but I really think this is important." The young scientist rotated the screen of his terminal to a position ideal for Walternate's viewing. "This is last night's surveillance footage from the elevator connecting the cell block on the sub-level, to the ground floor. Watch carefully."

Walternate's unwavering attention was already on the screen. Brandon skipped through the footage until it reached a point where two guards boarded the elevator at the ground floor lobby.

The Secretary watched the guards as they stood passively while the elevator descended. The doors opened and almost instantaneously there was a flash and one the guards dropped to his knees. He reached for his right arm, unmistakably in pain. The other man, meanwhile, looked both shocked and unsurprisingly scared, he'd raised his hands in surrender. 'Coward' Walternate thought now as he watched. Soon after they were ushered from the elevator at gun point, although nothing more than the weapon and the hand holding it could be seen from the camera's fixed position perpendicular to the doors. The gun holder's face was, for the moment, hidden from its scope. The elevator doors remained open for a while without anyone boarding.

"Let me shift forward a little, nothing happens the next few minutes." Brandon explained. He changed the timeframe, the footage now skimming by, before it resumed at normal speed. It was then, that two women entered into the elevator, in full view of the camera. As was expected, Olivia Dunham from the other universe was there, but what completely took the Secretary by surprise was the woman at her side.

Brandon froze the image and zoomed in on younger woman's face.

Walternate clenched his jaw recognizing the young girl immediately. It was the same girl whom had initially tried to prevent him from bringing Peter back from the other side. They had pictures of her from footage of both encounters with her at the motels in Roverville and Noyo County. Accessing the recordings had been simple, they had infiltrated agents stationed on the other side with more than enough credentials and assumed jurisdiction to get whatever they required from wherever was necessary.

"It's the girl that killed Newton, isn't it Sir?" Brandon asked.

"Yes it is," Walternate confirmed with a minute nod.

"But, if you wait a few seconds, there's more." Brandon resumed playback.

Walternate watched as the elevator ascended. There was a brief exchange of conversation, though they had no sound accompanying the images, it was evident that both women were preparing for a fight. Just before the elevator was due to come to a stop as it neared ground level, the girl placed her hand on Agent Dunham's shoulder. What happened next completely blindsided him. As the doors slid leisurely open, the girl along with Olivia Dunham's doppelgänger suddenly phased out and completely disappeared. Seconds later the space inside the elevator's cab was invaded by astonished guards, looking dumbly around the small interior, not understanding what had just happened before their eyes.

"Fascinating," Walternate murmured, captivated.

"This was what caught my attention Sir. I heard the guards talking about the prisoner having vanished to evade the ambush they'd set in the lobby. I was curious, so I pulled the surveillance footage."

"You did well Brandon. Has Major Sorensen seen this?"

"Yes. He thought that it was a glitch in the recording. He thinks they must have escaped through the elevator's service shaft."

"Let him keep thinking that. Send word to our Agents on the Other Side. They must search for the girl at once, she and their Agent Dunham must be heading to Boston. There are four locations they must pay particular attention to; Agent Dunham's house, Dr. Bishop's Harvard Lab, the Boston FBI Field Office and the Bishop's residence. The girl is to be kept under surveillance. She must not be approached under any circumstances and must remain unaware that she is being monitored."

"Yes sir." Brandon nodded.

The Secretary paced the lab, his mind processing the information and evaluating the world of possibilities only just revealed to him.

"Has our Agent Dunham made contact yet?" he asked turning to Brandon once more.

"No Sir, not yet."

"Good. For the moment, her infiltration must remain undetected. However, it is critical that we inform her that her cover will soon be compromised. She must proceed to one of our safe houses and wait for further instruction. I believe she can still be of use to us over there."

"Yes Sir." Brandon closed the window of his terminal displaying the elevator footage. He turned to the Secretary about to say something, but he seemed hesitant. "...And what about Peter?" he finally asked with an uneasy wince tweaking his left cheek.

"The girl is our priority now Brandon." The Secretary said, sounding strangely serene. He walked towards one of the immaculately clean and well organised work benches, where a Bunsen burner had been set up, its flame licking around the base of a beaker clamped in a metal stand. The liquid inside turned from green to purple as the temperature rose and the liquid began to bubble. Observing the chemical reaction had a further calming effect on the Secretary, appealing to the repressed lab geek in him. He relaxed and allowed his thoughts the freedom to shift as freely as the electrons, exchanging between the liquid's chemicals, producing this reaction. "It's obvious she can crossover at will and without requirement for mechanical assistance. She is proving most persistent and resourceful. Should we bring Peter back by force to our side, she would no doubt launch another bid to take him back, probably from right under our noses as she did with Agent Dunham's doppelgänger." Walternate turned his attention back to Brandon, whose own attention had not once left him through his period of reflection and consideration. "Besides, I am very curious to know the specifics of how she is able to cross over." The right side of the Secretary's upper lip curled slightly, forming an unpleasant sneer.

After all the setbacks, the morning had turned out to hold considerably more promise than he had anticipated.

* * *

Liv arrived in the Bronx a little before 8am. A private jet was at her disposal to travel between Boston and New York and had cut the trip time by several hours.

The Secretary had planned her mission meticulously. Having a jet on standby and ready to take off as and when she required, saved her from spending hours on the road. She had no need to compromise her time with the infrequency of airline schedules or even with checking in as she would otherwise have had to do if she had been reliant upon commercial flights.

The necessity of spending time away from Boston in order to get a message to her side presented enough problems, without being further hampered by raising suspicions with lengthy and difficult to explain absences. She anticipated she may had to make this same trip several times, dependent upon the length and success of the mission.

Liv took a peek through the dusty window of the rundown antique typewriter shop, from which she was supposed to be able to make contact with her side. An array of assorted typewriters were displayed in the window, with many more inside packing the shelves of the store.

She remembered seeing a typewriter once, back when she was in high school on a field trip visiting a museum. Were they still common in this Universe? She hadn't noticed any in use at the FBI field office the day before, when she had to go through a debriefing with this Universe's Broyles. She guessed that it was most likely the same as in her home Universe, where only enthusiasts still used these old instruments.

Personally she never understood the appeal of using old things, not when you had more technologically advanced, efficient and simply better devices at your disposal.

Liv tried the door - even though a yellowed and faded print 'Closed' sign hung crookedly against the glass - and found it securely locked. She knocked on the window, hoping that perhaps someone in the back would answer. But everything was quiet inside, it was obvious that no one was there yet.

She huffed in frustration. There was nothing like having her time wasted to make her irritable. With no better alternatives, she shrugged and decided to burn some time by exploring the area for a while.

The place wasn't very different from the Bronx she knew from her side, although the air was lighter and more breathable than the air she would expect if she were at this location on her side, there it always carried an unpleasant chemical tang.

Not far away, her eye was attracted by activity at one of the stores. At this time of the morning it appeared to be the only one with any signs of life at all, but the place was bustling. She wandered closer and soon caught the alluring scent of freshly baked bread and sweetness of sugar and spice. Complimenting, and altogether more seductive than all of these, was the incredibly enticing aroma of coffee; such a rare and expensive commodity in her universe, she found it shocking to find it so readily available here.

A steady flow of people were entering, then leaving the shop with bags containing strange and exotically shaped loaves and white boxes no doubt laden with assorted delights. Her stomach grumbled at the assault on her senses, she'd hardly eaten since crossing over the day before. Suddenly, all her other frustrations and concerns faded into insignificance.

A sign hung over the entrance 'Padaria de Divina, Portuguese Bakery'.

She stepped inside and the delicious aromas intensified. The savoury yeastiness of the bread intermingled with a more defined pallet of sweet delights, fruit and cinnamon emanating from the bewildering array of pastries on display behind the shop's glass fronted counter. Liv's stomach grumbled more violently, demanding attention. She approached the counter, greedily eying each different type of cake and bread on display.

"Rosa, dá-me uma bica, uma meia de leite e uma sandes mista. Mas tira-me já a bica que acordei com uma daquelas dores de cabeça." An elderly man standing at the counter besides Liv, spoke in a strange language, sounding like a mix between Spanish and Russian. Portuguese from Europe, Liv mused. She'd heard Brazilians speak in their native language before, but it was so different from what she was hearing now. Apparently there was a big difference between the two accents, much like there was with American and British English.

"Aqui está Sr. Caetano," the young waitress said from behind the counter, as she handed a small steaming cup containing a thick black liquid to the old man.

Liv frowned looking at the small cup. The smell coming from it was overwhelming. Liv closed her eyes, taking it in. It took her bemused brain a moment before she recognized it was Coffee. But not like any coffee she'd ever dared dream of, never mind encountered before.

She opened her eyes, finding the waitress looking at her with an amused smile. She was in her early twenties, her long dark hair was glossy and trapped in a pony tail that bounced as she moved from one side of the serving area to the other. She had a beautiful face, with deep brown eyes and thin lips. Even in the spring, her tanned skin showed her Mediterranean ancestry. She stopped in front of Liv, "That's the way Portuguese drink coffee. In small cups, much like the Italian expressos," the young girl explained. "But we also have regular coffee if you'd prefer."

"Actually, I would like to try the Portuguese coffee, it smells so good." Liv smiled at the young woman.

"It may be stronger than what we are used to here in America and it's only a small portion," the young girl said. "You're sure you want to try it?"

"Sure, hit me," Liv said with a nod. "By the way, what are those over there?" she enquired, pointing to a tray filled with glossy golden rounds, of what she assumed were a type of cake. They looked so appetising.

"Milk Bread. It's known as Portuguese Sweet Bread in the US but the correct name in Portuguese is Milk Bread. If you never tried one, they're very good warm, and eaten with butter and a slice of cheese."

"I guess I'll take one to go, and throw in three of those cakes over there." She pointed to the Malasadas on display on the counter.

"One sweet bread and three Malasadas coming right up," the waitress said, inserting Liv's request in the POS. She then turned to the big expresso machine situated against the back wall, detaching the filter she tapped out the grounds from the previous use, then she cleaned and refilled it with fresh coffee grounds from a device to the right of the machine, until a mound was piled high. With speed and efficiency of a task she performed hundreds of times a day, the girl smoothed off and then compressed the grounds and had it twisted back into the machine mere seconds after she began. She placed a cup under the nozzle and waited while the concentrated coffee trickled slowly into the tiny cup.

When it was ready the waitress planted the cup of steaming coffee on the counter in front of Liv. "Here's your coffee. Most people drink it with sugar." The young woman pointed to the sachet on the saucer, beside the cup. "I'll be just a moment with your sweet bread."

"Thanks," Liv said as she ripped open the paper packet and poured the contents into the coffee. She stirred it until she could feel the sugar had dissolved then took a sip. The coffee was hot and unbelievably strong, but it tasted heavenly. Of course Liv had tried coffee before, but opportunity to get it was infrequent at best and last time she'd got her mitts around a cup had been such a long time ago, she hardly remembered how it tasted, but she had always liked it a lot. But this was coffee on a whole new level. She felt instantly invigorated, supercharged by the strength of the brew.

"So?" the waitress asked, watching Liv sipping her coffee.

Liv smiled at the young woman. "It's _very_ good."

The young woman broke into a wide smile "I actually prefer regular coffee, American style. I love it with milk," she handed Liv two white boxes with the bakery's logo printed on the lid, one containing the Portuguese sweet breads and the other the Malasadas.

"We don't usually drink coffee from where I come from. It's been a long time since I've had a cup," Liv explained as she handed her credit card across to the waitress.

"Really?" the waitress asked with a raised eyebrow, surprised by Liv's confession. "Then you should try it with milk, it's delicious." She passed the card back with a receipt.

"I'll make sure I do." Liv accepted the card back and finished the last of her coffee before leaving her cup on the counter and picking up both boxes. "Thanks for everything."

The waitress smiled and gave a graceful wave before Liv turned for the door, the smile on her face was contagious.

Liv paused for a moment at the entrance, watching the young woman going about her business, attending to her customers greeting each one with the warmth of her smile. It was hard to imagine how she or the other people in the bakery could pose such a threat to her Universe.

Liv sighed, being amongst these people, even for such a short time was giving her pause for thought and had her wondering if she was doing the right thing. She turned around setting off for the antique shop once more, she could not let her emotions or doubts get to her. She had a mission to fulfil, one which her own people and their safety depended upon and that was her only concern.

* * *

"Aha! I knew it!" Walter bounced excitedly on his feet. Meanwhile, Astrid remained frozen on the spot, her mouth agape.

"I knew she was related to you!" the elder Bishop said to Olivia as he swiftly passed her by on his way towards Etta. "But now I'm also seeing the Bishop traits in you," he grabbed Etta's head turning it one side to the other, closely examining her face from all angles. "The photo Olivia had was very low quality. That's why I missed it!"

Etta smiled awkwardly, politely trying to wriggle free from Walter's grasp.

"Walter let her be," Peter said as he finished dressing, now fastening the last few buttons on his shirt after drying off from his dunk in the isolation tank.

"Sush Peter! Let me talk to my granddaughter!" The old scientist turned his attention back to Etta. "Tell me dear, how were you able to travel through time?"

"How do you know that?" Etta asked, a little surprised by Walter's pointed question.

"It's obvious!" The old scientist raised his finger, then touched Etta's lower eyelid of her right eye. "Don't move now dear," he advised while he retrieved a small flashlight from his pocket and soon directed the beam into Etta's eye. She sighed, resigned and allowed him to perform his examination.

"Of course it's obvious. People traveling through time, happens all the time." Peter said poker-faced, but then he rolled his eyes, earning a smile from Etta.

"Don't be such a sceptic Peter. The Observers do it; is it so far-fetched to believe that humanity will also be able to achieve such a feat it in the future?" Walter finally let go of Etta's face, much to her relief. "Besides there isn't any other plausible explanation. This is after all, your grown up child standing before me. Unless there's some kind of acceleration process that could both induce the urge to conceive and speed gestation; allowing the entire process to take place within a span of twenty four hours..." Walter waved between Peter and Olivia, "Which in your case, I'd suggest is preposterous," he snorted with a laugh.

"...as opposed to time travel, which everyone knows is perfectly plausible." Peter shook his head looking at Etta. The young woman's smile grew a little wider.

"Unless someone injected one or both of you with a stable version of Dr. Penrose's growth hormone directly before you engaged in unprotected sexual activity," Walter said pensively, his eyes still flitting between Peter and Olivia. "Did you have intercourse while you were on the Other Side?" he asked with a delighted glint in his eyes as he wagged his index finger at them both.

"Walter!" Peter glared at the old scientist. Olivia lowered her head, rubbing gently at her forehead with her left thumb and index finger, a light blush colouring her cheeks. Still she couldn't help the slight quirk lifting the corners of her lips.

"Don't be such a prude Peter, it would be perfectly normal after being apart for so long. You two are both fine, healthy specimens. Besides, you're perfect for each other, I've been trying to subtly hint at it for some time now. It seems that only the two of you were previously unable to see how right I was."

"Walter, that's enough," Peter raised his left hand, his tone growing more serious.

"Anyhow," Walter turned his attention back to Etta, completely unflustered by Peter's warning. "I believe that you are not the result of the fanciful usage of growth hormones my dear."

Etta leant in conspiratorially. "You're absolutely right Walter," she said, unable to hide her amused smile.

"So the only other plausible, ergo obvious, explanation is that you do in fact come from the future!" Walter clapped his hands and sprung lightly on the balls of his feet.

"It's obviously logical. That was the first thing that crossed my mind when I first saw her." Peter sighed, his deadpan expression made Olivia smile.

"Exactly Peter!" Walter continued to bounce excitedly, totally missing the sarcasm in his son's words. "So, my dear, how were you able to travel through time?"

Etta chuckled. "Actually, a large part of it was thanks to you Walter. We adapted the design of your Dizray device."

"The Dizray worked?!" Walter grabbed Etta by the shoulders and shook her excitedly. "I knew I was on the right path!"

"Walter! Walter!" Peter grabbed the old scientist, making him release Etta. "She survived the Observers and time travel. I don't want her to succumb to your enthusiasm now."

"What do you mean survived the Observers?" Astrid finally came out of her stupor. "She really is your daughter from the future?" she asked Olivia, moving a few steps closer to the FBI agent, but keeping her eyes on Etta.

Olivia looked to Etta and gave a single nod of her head. "Everything points to that." The acceptance and confidence of her mother made Etta smile. Olivia's attention fell back on Astrid. "About the Observers; we'll explain everything later." She put a reassuring hand on Astrid's arm. "But there's another urgent matter to take care of," Olivia paused and her brow pinched as she continued "have I been here; earlier today?"

"What do you mean? You're here now." Astrid burrowed a frown, obviously puzzled by Olivia's odd question.

"We came back with the wrong Olivia, Astrid," Peter explained sheepishly as he approached the Junior FBI Agent. "The woman who crossed over with us yesterday, is the Olivia from the Other Side. My... biological father captured Olivia and switched them without us noticing."

"Oh my god!" Astrid covered her mouth with her hand, her attention shifting back to Olivia "But... If that's the case and the other Olivia crossed with Peter and Walter, how were you able to get back?" she asked, her puzzlement growing by the minute.

Walter turned to Etta before Olivia could explain. "You went there and brought her back, didn't you dear?"

"Yes, I did," the blonde Bishop confirmed with a nod.

"You can cross between universes like your mother, can't you?" The old scientist lower lip trembled with the fear of expectation as he awaited confirmation.

"I can."

"I'm so sorry dear. That is all my fault." Walter's eyes were watery when his hands fell onto Etta's shoulders once more, but this time he gently pulled her to him and encircled her in his arms.

"Walter it's okay. It's not your fault." Still wrapped up in his hug, Etta patted the old man's back. She broke free after a while, but maintained contact with his shoulders, ensuring that he listened to and understood what she was about to say. "Walter, look at me. Honestly, yes, you are in part responsible." Walter's eyes slid down in shame. Etta shook him lightly and squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. "But, you weren't the one to secretly inject my mother with massive doses of Cortexiphan when she was pregnant with me."

Walter raised his head looking at Etta. In the eyes was a renewed horror. "Who... Who would do such a thing?"

Etta shook her head slightly. "It's not important now, but I promise that I will explain everything when there's time. But you also must know, that it is because of my abilities that I was able to survive the hostilities of the future that I come from. It is also the reason I was capable of traveling through time. I am here because I'm the _only_ one that could survive the demands and strains of such a journey." Etta gave her grandfather a reassuring smile. "I don't blame anyone for my abilities, least of all you. Actually, I'm thankful I have them."

Walter nodded, his lower lip trembled and his eyes remained glassy.

"Walter..." Peter joined Etta, he too put his hand on Walter's shoulder. "Whatever happened to Etta, how she ended up being who she is... it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for it."

Etta looked at Peter and gave a slight nod and a smile. The memory of their conversation days before coming to her mind.

Walter patted Peter's hand. "Thank you... son."

Peter smiled at the old scientist, then tried to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. "But, Olivia is right. The other Olivia is on the loose, we have to warn Broyles." Peter turned to the blonde FBI Agent who nodded her agreement.

"What are we going to tell him?" Astrid crossed her arms in incredulity. "That we know you came back with the wrong Olivia only because your grownup daughter arrived from the future and rescued _our_ Olivia from the Other Side?"

"No!" Etta shook her head vehemently. "No one can know of my true identity or where I come from. You must all promise to keep this a secret."

"We have to tell Broyles." Olivia spread her right hand, palm facing up. "I trust him, besides we need the FBI's resources to hunt down my doppelgänger."

"You don't understand." Etta shook her head once more, clearly frustrated. "Walternate's shapeshifters have infiltrated all of your government and law enforcement agencies, including the FBI and Homeland Security. If my identity ends up in a report, it's the same as telling Walternate directly."

"Your daughter is right, Olivia." Walter crossed his arms, and stroked his chin with his left hand. "And there's another issue we have to ponder upon. If a report is written about her presence here, about who she really is, it could have serious repercussions in the future, at least the future she came from. And if she has travelled back in time, we must assume that something has already gone wrong in that future and further hypothesise that Etta came here to prevent whatever it is that is going to happen.

"By making her _true_ identity known, in this time, we could unwittingly direct ourselves towards that same future. Hence her presence here _must_ be kept secret," Walter concluded looking towards Etta. "Isn't that right dear?"

"Yes," the young Bishop nodded, impressed by her grandfather's sagacity.

"Walter's right Olivia." Peter moved away from the workbench he'd been leaning on and approached Olivia. "But I also think that Broyles has to know, we just have to ensure that everything is kept out of the official reports. Besides, if what Etta is saying is correct - about the infiltrated Shapeshifters - we can make this work to our advantage."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "We can feed them false information…" She then turned to the younger Bishop "Etta, do you know the identities of these infiltrated shapeshisfters?"

"Some of them," she replied with a confirming nod. "Aunt Astrid and Donald were able to give me information on the most relevant ones. But if I can see them, I can identify them through the glimmer."

"Aunt Astrid?" Astrid raised her eyebrows.

Etta smiled. "It's a long story. I'll tell you everything later. I promise."

"You can see the glimmer of objects from the Other Side like your mother?" Walter interrupted. He was in the zone and eager to keep the flow of information rolling. He approached Etta once more, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Yes, Donald taught me how to access the full range of my abilities."

"Donald?" Walter queried.

"He's the Observer who pulled you out of the lake when you first crossed over, in order to save Peter," Etta explained, glancing quickly over to her father. "He helped us fight the other Observers. He opposed the invasion and helped the resistance. To hide himself from the others, he removed his observer-tech, which also meant that he became a normal human, like us. It was then that he assumed the name of 'Donald'. He's the reason I'm able to be here now, without him, we would never have come this far."

"Fascinating," Walter enthused.

"Walter, Astrid," Olivia interrupted. "I know there's a lot you want to ask Etta. Believe me, I still have many questions too." She then turned to Etta, who gave a slight nod. "But that will have to come latter. We have an infiltrated agent, _my double_, on the loose. We have to deal with that immediately."

"Of course dear, you're absolutely right," Walter conceded and gave nod of understanding.

"Astrid, could you please make a call to the FBI field office and ask for me." Olivia requested of the Junior Agent. "Give an excuse, something innocuous, like I'm not answering my cell phone."

"I'm on it." Astrid said, already on her way back to her desk.

Olivia continued to formulate her strategy for acquiring the rogue doppelgänger, effortlessly drawing upon all the resources at her disposal. "Etta, you told me that she could be trying to contact the Other Side, you said something about a typewriter store?" Olivia prompted, shifting her attention to her future daughter.

"That's right, it's an antique typewriter store located in the Bronx. They have a quantum entangled typewriter there, one able to send and receive messages from the Other Side. My guess is that she must have gone there to report to her superiors. At least, it's what I would do." Etta sighed, "I'm sorry, I have a lot of information about what happened in this timeline, but I don't have all the specifics," she said offering an apologetic shrug.

"Etta, it's okay." Olivia smiled at her.

"The Bronx? That's at least a three hour trip from here," Peter frowned. "Why in the Bronx?"

"According to Donald," Etta started to explain. "They thought that in order to function properly, the typewriters had to be close to one another, geographically, in each universe; which by the way, Olivia would prove them wrong." Etta smirked at her mother, which in turn raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Later," they said in unison.

Etta continued with her explanation, "Since Boston 'Over There' is almost completely lost to ambered areas they chose to put both typewriters in New York," she concluded.

"She's not at the FBI!" Astrid announced as she disconnected her phone call. "Also, Broyles is there, I asked the receptionist."

"Thanks Astrid," Olivia gave a nod and a light smile to the Junior Agent.

Peter stood with his arms crossed over his chest. "So, what now?" he asked.

Olivia moved towards Peter, standing toe to toe with him. "You have your phone with you?"

"Yeah it's right here." He reached for his back pocket and took out the cell phone, handing it to Olivia.

The FBI agent shook her head. "I want _you_ to call Broyles."

* * *

Philip Broyles parked his car near the Kresge Building. Twenty minutes earlier he had received an odd phone call from Peter Bishop. Something about Agent Dunham. Whatever was that was troubling him, the younger Bishop had been very secretive about it and had insisted that Broyles should come to the lab so they could talk in confidence. Peter had also asked him not to mention anything to Olivia if they crossed paths at FBI field office, which made Peter's request seem all the more peculiar.

Philip strode through the parking lot towards the building housing the lab, his imposing figure juxtaposed with his physical grace meant that he was able to make his way between the students milling around the campus, with an elegant ease.

As he approached the door to the lab, he could hear the burble of multiple voices engaged in animated discussion, coming from inside. Even before he entered, he could identify that one belonged to Agent Dunham. Which was odd, not only because of Peter's earlier hint that he didn't want to talk in front of her, but also and because of this, on his way in he had checked for, but hadn't seen her vehicle in the parking lot.

Broyles opened the door, confirming that Agent Dunham was indeed present in the lab. However what caught his attention above all else, was the second blonde woman present in the room. Her face was familiar and it didn't take long for his trained, investigator's mind, to pinpoint where he had last seen her.

This was the woman from the surveillance footage, taken from the motels in Washington State, where Peter was last seen before he had crossed over to the Other Side. The mysterious and elusive girl, who had tried to prevent Walternate from taking the younger Bishop, had apparently been found. Was she the reason for all the secrecy? His team had a lot to explain, and he hoped that soon he would have the answers to this puzzle.

The group continued in their animated discussion, oblivious to his presence. Broyles descended silently down the steps before announcing himself. "Bishop, care to explain what's going on?"

All eyes darted to him and it was Olivia who was the first to approach him. "Sir, it was I that asked Peter to call you. I'm sorry, but it was absolutely necessary under the circumstances."

"What circumstances would those be Agent?" Broyles asked.

Peter stepped up to stand at Olivia's side. "We came back with the Olivia from the other side. The Agent Dunham you debriefed yesterday in New York was the wrong Olivia. She is an infiltrating agent whom my father swapped with our Olivia, without our knowledge. Her intended mission is to spy on us."

Broyles remained silent pondering on what he'd been told and of what the presence of the other Dunham could signify. The blond young woman meanwhile kept staring right at him. He ignored her for now, instead turning to Olivia. "If that is so, then I presume that you are my Agent."

"Yes Sir." Olivia gave a single nod, keeping her solemn green eyes on her boss. "When we first met, in the aftermath of Flight 627, you insisted on calling me 'Liaison', which – as you were well aware - annoyed me to no end," she said to prove her identity.

The impassive mask that Broyles proudly wore almost slipped, his lips twitching for a fraction of a second, trying to form a smile of their own volition, before he regained control of them. The twinkle in his eyes however, remained unbridled as he recalled his first encounter with his Agent - one of the finest he had ever worked with, if not the very best - was one of the few fond memories he had from a job that kept giving him nightmares.

Broyles nodded to his Agent, reassured that it was really her in front of him.

He then redirected his attention to the young blonde woman. Whomever she was, it was obvious she was heavily involved with what was happening. "What is your role in all of this?" he asked her.

Without hesitation Etta stepped up to face the imposingly tall man, unguardedly looking him in the eye without fear, much as Olivia had done upon their first meeting. "I'm the one who brought your Agent back.

"She had been taken prisoner when I got to her, locked in a solitary cell. If not for me, by now she would be going through an extensive interrogation process, leading to torture and brainwashing."

Broyles eyes flicked to Olivia questioningly. All traces of his earlier good humour had been effectively dashed. Olivia nodded, confirming the truth of what Etta had just said.

"May I ask, what your interest in my Agent is?

"We know you also made efforts to intercept Peter before his father got to him. Why are you so invested in protecting my people from agents of the Other Side?" Broyles unwavering stare was locked on the young woman. "And finally... who are you?" he asked.

"She is the daughter of Peter and Olivia!" Walter interjected excitedly, jumping in front of the Senior Agent. "She... she came from the future Agent Broyles! Isn't that remarkable?"

Broyles dark eyes widened as he watched Dr. Bishop hop from foot to foot with glee. He then shifted his attention to Peter and Olivia who each kept quiet without rebutting the old scientist's seemingly crazy statement.

"Agent Dunham, care to elaborate on that?" He asked Olivia, his exasperation slipping through his mask.

"I believe it to be the truth sir." Olivia answered, her tone calm and confident, she seemed absolutely certain of what she was saying. "But I'll let Etta explain, she has greater knowledge of all the facts."

* * *

Broyles listened to Etta's extraordinary story without saying a word. Olivia and Peter both intervened when Etta's account reached the events that took place after she arrived in their timeline. They confirmed everything that Etta so far recounted, concerning her part in the incidents that took place in Noyo County and Roverville, where she had tried to prevent Peter from crossing over, and also during Olivia's captivity and subsequent rescue from the other side.

Broyles stood quietly for quite some time after Etta finished her story. The others gave him time to process, though all eyes remained on the Senior Agent, waiting for his reaction to Etta's tale. Only the soft hum of the machines equipping the lab interrupted the silence.

"I have seen many extraordinary and unexplainable things since I joined Fringe Division," he spoke up at last. "But that does not mean I will blindly believe in everything people try to shove down my throat." Broyles words were delivered smoothly and his impassive look was fixed upon Etta once more, neither giving away any indication of his state of mind. "But since my Agent seems to believe you, I will give you the benefit of doubt. Nonetheless, I will require some proof to confirm your assertion of fact."

Walter approached the Senior Agent. "Agent Broyles, just look at her, it's obvious she is their daughter!" he said, indignant that anyone would not believe what he had begun to suspect from the moment he laid eyes upon the girl. He excitedly waved between Etta, Olivia and Peter illustrating the evidence before them all.

"Walter, it's okay." Etta put her hand on his shoulder. "Agent Broyles is right, you should confirm my identity. I believe both you and Peter have the means to perform a DNA test?" Etta glanced at her father, who gave a confirming nod. "But, we can do it wherever you'd like," Etta concluded still addressing Broyles.

"Here will be fine." Broyles' stare remained fixed on Etta "If everything you just told me is correct, then we must keep this information to ourselves, at least for now. Also, I want a list of all the Shapeshifters known to have infiltrated our side, all those you have knowledge of. I'd also like to know the location of each buried component of the wave sync machine."

"I'll start the lists right away Agent Broyles." Etta nodded to the Senior Agent.

Broyles shifted his attention to Olivia "Agent Dunham, Henrietta is your responsibility for now. Keep a close eye on her."

"Yes Sir," Olivia gave a single confirming nod.

Broyles turned to Etta once more. "Ms. Bishop, I hope for your sake you are telling the truth and that you don't have a hidden agenda for your actions. Because if I find out that there are, I promise you I will put you in a dark cell and no one will ever hear from you again." He looked intently at the young woman's face, trying to catch any indication of nervousness or any other sign that she could be lying. Etta remained impassive and unconcerned, but with the same determination in her eyes that made her look so much like Olivia. It gave him renewed hope that she was indeed telling the truth.

"Whatever the case may be, I should still thank you for bringing back my Agent." Broyles extended his hand to Etta.

Etta had heard a lot about her mother's boss, mainly from Astrid when they had met in her timeline. Now she understood why the former FBI Agent talked about him with such admiration. The man carried himself with a quiet, yet fierce dignity and it was clear that he respected, and more than that, he cared very much for her mother. "It was my pleasure Agent Broyles, and please, call me Etta," she requested and accepted his large hand.

"Agent Dunham." Broyles turned to Olivia. "I believe we've got an enemy agent to catch."

* * *

Liv huffed out of frustration. She slumped on an uncomfortable couch in the tatty living room of the safe house she'd been brought to just a few hours earlier. If there was one thing Liv was terrible at, it was sitting around, doing nothing.

She got up and stalked towards the window. The house was located in a small town in upstate Connecticut, called Winsted. She'd been told to wait there until further instructions were issued.

On the street outside, a few pedestrians were going about their lives and the occasional vehicle passed, but there was nothing of any interest or concern. If her cover had really been compromised, Liv guessed that this town in the middle of nowhere, would be the last place anyone would look for her.

She decided it was safe enough to go for a walk, tired as she was of doing nothing. She could canvass the neighbourhood, search for possible escape routes in case of an emergency.

Liv grabbed her gun and the communication device, which one of Secretary's men had left with her when they dropped her at the safe house. She thought the thing ridiculous; it was larger than a showme and bulky, it was nothing at all like the ear cuffs used on her side. This 'phone' was yet another example of a technology that, in her world, would belong in a museum.

It made Liv wonder. If this universe was not as technologically advanced as her world, then how come they presented such a threat? She shook the thought away and put the phone in her back pocket. God, she needed to get out of this house for a while.

Liv walked aimlessly. The few people that passed by her smiled or otherwise acknowledged her. She guessed it was one of those types of town, where everyone knew everyone else. Up ahead Liv spotted a coffee shop, the memory of her visit to the Portuguese Bakery earlier that morning came to her mind. A cup of coffee would be a great idea, she was eager to try to other variations of the black beverage.

She remembered what the waitress at the Bakery had told her, so she ordered coffee with milk to go. She sipped eagerly at the drink even as she walked towards the exit. The girl had been right, it tasted heavenly. Just before she made it to the door, a man bumped into her making some of her coffee slop from the cup, despite the lid fitted to the top of the paper vessel.

"I'm so sorry miss, I didn't notice..." The man started to say, but stopped. His stare fixed upon Liv's face.

She raised her head after checking her clothes for coffee stains. She was about to speak when she noticed the look of explicit rage on the man's face. In a split second the man turned and ran like his life depended on it.

'What the fuck?' Liv's honed instincts quickly kicked in and she immediately set off after him. Was he an FBI agent sent after her? She had been very careful to note her surroundings when she got out of the house and nothing had raised any alarms. If he had been tracking her, either the guy was very good, or he had bumped into her by mere chance. However, the fact that he was running away from her instead of trying to capture her would not make sense in such a scenario.

Another thought crossed Liv's mind as she shortened the distance between them, with the speed of her relentless chase. Maybe it wasn't about her at all, perhaps the guy was a wanted criminal, one who'd been chased in the past by her alternate.

Whichever was the case, he had clearly recognized her and therefore, had to be stopped.

Liv caught up with the man with some ease, he was in his 50's, maybe early 60's, and Liv's athletic conditioning ensured that he was no match for her. She tackled him roughly and shoved him into an alley, far away from any possible lingering looks of any passing pedestrians.

The man looked up at Liv from where he'd slumped to the floor in surrender, he panted desperately trying to recover his breath. Liv made sure no one was watching, then drew her gun from its holster.

The man's eyes were cold as they fixed on her and to her surprise a sneer formed on his lips. "You dyed your hair. Almost didn't recognize you." His voice was low and he coughed between words, he seemed to have worked something loose as he then spat on the ground near her boots. Liv grimaced and her hand gripped her gun tighter, responding to his undisguised hostility.

"Go on," he said still trying to catch his breath, eyes dark with defiance. "Finish what you started 22 years ago... Little princess."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to everyone that reviewed, fallowed and/or are still reading the story. Ruben, since you don't have an account I can't answer your reviews, so I'll do it here. Thank you so much, it's very kind of you to take the time to review; and twice the same chapter. I'm very flattered by your compliments, but a lot of the credit also goes to Crystalline Green. Even so, your reviews, as the ones from the other readers, mean a lot and help keep the story going. I'm really glad you and the others are enjoying it. I also hope you all enjoy this chapter.  
Crys, this one was a bucket load of editing and I'm not exaggerating when I say that it would be completely different without your intervention. It is so much better now.  
Thanks for everything mate****, loads of virtual beer and coffee are going your way :)**


	23. Unexpected Frequencies

**Chapter 23 – Unexpected Frequencies****  
**

"You can roll up your sleeve once Aspen has finished dear," Walter said, already wandering away with the vial containing Etta's blood, which he had just drawn.

Astrid huffed lightly and gave a slight shake of her head muttering, "Every time," but didn't bother to correct him. She finished applying a dressing to the inner curve of Etta's elbow. Etta meanwhile was working hard, to stifle her laughter.

When Etta's giggling fit at last subsided, Astrid said, "I still don't know what is more unbelievable; that you come from the future or that they managed to swap Olivia with her Alternate." She closed the first aid kit as Etta raised herself from the chair she had been seated on while her blood was taken.

"I know, believe me when I say that all this is quite unbelievable for me too. I've heard and read so much about you guys, 'the original Fringe team'...You've become legendary." Etta shook her head illustrating her disbelief, then she shrugged her shoulders. "I still can't believe that I'm really here." Etta looked around the lab, her eyes were drawn towards Gene. "Coming to the lab and going straight to Gene's stall is one of the few clear childhood memories I have from before the invasion." She turned to Astrid with a smile, then turned on her heal and set off towards the cow, again feeling that childlike delight bubbling up inside her.

Etta watched Gene as she munched on fragrant hay, the aroma of which was so familiar and comforting to Etta even though, in over twenty years, she'd not encountered it outside of this lab. Gene meanwhile remained oblivious to the younger Bishop's presence. "Hey girl, I'm so glad to see you again," Etta greeted and patted the cow, who raised her head and mooed softly, encouraging Etta to continue. She gladly obliged, scratching the course hair on her wide nose and between her eyes. "You like that, don't you girl?"

Astrid watched from afar, smiling. "She just loves to be fussed over," she commented as she drifted over to join Etta by the stall. "What happened to her?" Astrid asked. "You said this was one of your memories from your childhood, so I gather she was no longer alive when you returned to Boston."

Etta sighed, "The last time I saw her, was right before the invasion. I only found out what happened to her when I met you - I mean the older version of you - a few months ago."

"A few months ago, in the future." Astrid chuckled at the absurdity of what Etta had just said.

The younger Bishop chuckled too and wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, I'm still having a hard time getting a grip on this whole time travel business." She shook her head amused and continued, "anyhow, your... future-self told me that you guys managed to find a home for Gene in the countryside, somewhere in upstate New York, after the invasion. Walter was adamant about finding a safe home for her before you abandoned the lab, but it was actually a consensual decision amongst the whole team. Everyone cared very much about Gene, she was with the team since the beginning."

Astrid nodded "Yes, she's special." She turned and gave the cow some attention, patting her head. "She is really one of the team."

Etta watched as the cow continued to chomp on her hay, reminding her that it was the middle of the afternoon and with all the commotion she hadn't eaten a proper meal all day, actually nobody had. "Is there some place around here where we can grab a bite to eat?" she asked Astrid.

"Oh, Peter said he was going to bring something for us on his way back." The Junior Agent took a peek at her watch. "He should be here any time now, he was just going to drop by the field office to check with Olivia how the hunt for imposter Olivia is going. Then he said he would stop by an Italian place called... Damiano's, or something."

"Damiano's?" Etta raised an eyebrow, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

"Yeah..." Astrid frowned. "You know the place?"

"Oh... it's nothing" Etta bit her lower lip trying to conceal her amusement.

Astrid stared at her for a few seconds "You know something about Damiano's, don't you?" Etta continued to pat Gene pretending not to listen to Astrid's question but was unable to hide her smile.

"It's something about Peter, Olivia and that place!" Astrid lowered her excited voice so Walter wouldn't hear their conversation "Come on, spill it!"

Etta chuckled, "It's funny because you were the one who told me in the first place, we were already on the Other Side after Simon was killed. When we drove by the other side's Damiano's, which according to you was exactly the same as the one over here. You couldn't stop giggling, you looked at me and then at the restaurant, and you just lost it."

"And why was that? Did I explain what was so funny about the place?" Astrid asked excited.

"Yes you did," Etta raised both eyebrows, a mischievous smile on her face. "According to you, there was this office party at the FBI, before the invasion when I was around two years old. Anyhow you and mom got a little tipsy. I know mom can usually hold her liquor very well, but she has a weakness with Champaign. Both of you were at it for a good part of the night, because according to mom the party 'sucked'." Etta made quotation marks with her fingers.

"And?" Astrid's eagerness to hear more was clear, judging by the way she'd leant forward and was hanging on every word Etta said.

"Well, you told her that the food also sucked, which made her ramble on and on about how the best food ever produced was from Damiano's. She ended up telling you that soon after she and dad got back together - once she'd regained her memories from this timeline - the first time they rekindled their 'thing', they ordered food from Damiano's and watched cheesy horror movies. However, the movie was cut short, and they ended up hardly eating any food at all. Instead, they used it during foreplay. She was convinced that was the night I was conceived."

"Oh... my... god." Astrid's mouth dropped opened wide. "She told me all that? Olivia is always so reserved about her private life."

"Oh yeah. But she wasn't the only one being so outspoken that day." Etta wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "You also told her some embarrassing stuff involving you and food. Remember you were both a 'little' tipsy." She smirked at the Junior Agent.

Astrid's smile dropped immediately. "What… what did I tell her?"

The doors of the lab opened wide, Peter pushed his way through backwards as his hands were occupied with three large pizza boxes. "Just talked to Olivia," he announced as he strode towards one of the workbenches. "She'll be here in fifteen."

Astrid looked at Peter, then back at Etta. Even with the masking effect of her complexion, it was obvious she was blushing. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," Etta said with a wink.

"I can't believe my future self is such a big mouth," Astrid said in a low voice.

"Oh... but she isn't," Etta raised both her eyebrows, her smile getting wider.

"You... you made that up!" Astrid barked. "I didn't say anything embarrassing to Olivia, did I!?" Astrid gaped at the brazen Etta, who seemed to be very pleased with herself.

"Nope, you didn't." She gave a wide grin. "But the story about Damiano's is true though," she whispered leaning closer Astrid's ear. And with that Etta strode away towards Peter and the Pizza. Astrid shook her head, flustered by Etta's deception. Still, a smile bloomed on her lips, amused by the young Bishop's antics and the disclosure of Peter and Olivia's dirty little secret. Even though, technically, they'd not yet done it.

"There's still nothing about the other Olivia," Peter sighed as he arranged the boxes on the workbench, oblivious to the exchange between Etta and Astrid.

"Fauxlivia!" Walter boomed, raising his head from the contraption he'd been working on.

"What?" Peter frowned looking at his father.

"That's how 'we' refer to the other Olivia now," Astrid explained with a shrug, as she approached the buffet bench.

"That's what he called her in my timeline too." Etta opened one of the boxes and helped herself to a slice.

"Some things never change," Peter mumbled and rolled his eyes, then grabbed a slice for himself, swiftly followed by Astrid.

"Walter, there's food here," Peter shouted to his father.

"Yes, yes, just a moment Peter I'm almost done."

"This is new, Walter postponing food," Peter raised an astonished eyebrow as he crunched into the crust of his slice.

"He's been like this all afternoon, something about a theory he wants to test," Astrid explained.

"Etta dear, could you come over for a minute?" Walter shouted, still fiddling with the buttons of an electronic device.

"Err... yeah sure." Etta shot a glance at Peter who frowned at his father request. She popped the rest of the pizza slice in her mouth and walked towards her grandfather. Peter put his half eaten slice on the lid of the box and joined Etta.

"What did you do with the oscilloscope?" Peter asked, scrutinising the tangle of wires connected to the device, each one terminating with a needle at its end.

"Give me both of your hands dear, palms down. Don't worry you will only feel a slight sting," Walter said, selecting two of the needles.

"Whoa there." Peter stepped in front of Etta. "You are not going to experiment on her!"

Walter looked at Peter, confused for a few seconds. His demeanour changed when he finally grasped his son's reaction "Oh… no, no! Of course not Peter. You see, I think I can prove that Etta is the daughter of parents from different universes. I already tested myself and the oscilloscope reported that my natural frequency is 261.63 Hertz, a C, just as would be expected, since I am from this universe."

Peter's own demeanour changed, his slightly angry semblance turning into a pensive one. "So... you expect Etta to be in the middle, somewhere between a C, inherited from Olivia, and my frequency which you said is a G?"

"That's precisely what I'm thinking!" Walter clasped his hands. "But it is possible that she may have only the frequency of her mother, or of the Universe in which she was born."

"That would make sense too," Peter conceded.

Etta sidestepped her dad, to stand in front of Walter. "Let's do it then," she said and offered her hands in front of her, palms down. "I want to get back to my pizza."

Walter carefully inserted one of the electrodes shallowly into the back of Etta's left hand. "See dear? It only stings a little, these are acupuncture needles, they won't hurt."

Etta nodded, then remained still while Walter repeated the process on her right hand, then he carefully positioned the two remaining needles, one on either side of her forehead. Walter's eyes flicked side to side as he checked their placement, satisfied he nodded to himself. "It's done. Now let's see if I'm right or not!" Walter enthused and turned his attention to the oscilloscope, fumbling with its switches and dials.

Peter watched as Walter manipulated the controls of the old oscilloscope, until a defined sinusoidal wave settled into view. "Huh," came a disgruntled sound from Walter after a few seconds.

Peter knew what frequency was displayed. "261.63 Hertz; a C," he said, evidently, Etta's was the same frequency as the universe they were in. "Well, it seems you take after your mother kiddo," he said with a smile.

Etta chuckled and proceeded to remove the needles. After finishing, she wasted no time in getting back to the bench with the pizzas.

Peter lingered a moment though, watching his father. The old scientist kept his eyes on the oscilloscope, his brow deeply furrowed, evidently disappointed with the result. "Test it on me Walter," Peter suggested, and placed his hand on top of the old machine. "Just to be sure the oscilloscope is reporting the correct frequency."

Walter looked up. "That's a good idea Peter. Yes, yes, that way we can be certain that our result is not erroneous." Walter discarded the used needles, depositing them in a sharps container, changed his gloves and peeled new acupuncture needles from a pack. He quickly attached them to the terminals on each wire before embedding them one by one into Peter's skin, repeating the process as he had on Etta.

Once again he adjusted the oscilloscope buttons until he got a reading. "392.0 Hertz, a G" Walter crossed his arms, staring at the analogue display.

"The machine is calibrated correctly Walter, there's no error in your test." Peter removed the needles and rested a consoling hand on Walter's shoulder.

"It appears so Peter." Walter continued to study the oscilloscope, his arms still crossed with his left hand in front of his mouth.

Peter smiled while looking at the old scientist, he knew that his genius mind was still processing the results of his experiment, working on ways to understand them and probably contemplating some other way to prove his theory. Peter gave an encouraging squeeze to Walter's shoulder. "Come on, let's go eat some pizza. You'll think better with your stomach full."

Walter seemed to snap out of his trance "Oh... Yes, yes! You're absolutely right my boy!" He clapped his hands. "I've proved that back in 1979!" he said, following Peter.

The door of the lab opened and Olivia walked in. Having changed her clothes, she was now wearing her usual attire of a black pant-suit. She stepped towards the workbench where everyone had gathered, she came to stand by Peter's side. "Hey," she greeted them softly, with a weak, tired smile.

"Grab a bite," Astrid turned one of the pizza boxes around to her.

"No thanks, I'm fine," Olivia declined with a wave of her hand.

"Any news?" Peter asked Olivia, going back in for his second slice.

"We've got the typewriter antique store under surveillance, but she hasn't shown up yet." She ran a hand over her hair even though it was tied back, a tell tail sign of her frustration.

"Maybe she already made it back to the Other Side." Etta suggested, then picked up her third slice of pizza. "This is really good" she enthused, then wasting no more time talking, she bit into it.

"Indeed it is my dear," Walter said between bites. "You're sure you don't want some, Agent Dunham?" he asked Olivia.

"Here." Etta grabbed a slice, offering it to her mother.

The FBI Agent wiped her nose with the back of her hand and eyed the slice Etta was tempting her with.

"Go on Olivia, I bet you haven't eaten a thing yet." Peter placed his hand to the small of Olivia's back, silently encouraging her to accept the slice.

Olivia finally caved in and held her hand out. Etta laid it on the plate of her palm, and watched while her mother took a small bite. She chewed for a few seconds. "This really is good," she said taking another, far larger, bite.

"I picked it up from a place called Damiano's, actually it's not very far from your place. I'll have to take you there one of these days." Peter smiled watching Olivia who was now eating with gusto.

Astrid gave a little snort, almost choking on the bite she'd just taken.

"What?" Peter questioned with a frown at Astrid.

"Nothing," she replied feigning indifference and trying to hide her amusement behind the remainder of her pizza slice. After Peter turned his attention back to Olivia, Astrid leaned in to whisper in Etta's ear. "I think you're going to have a little sister in no time."

This time it was Etta's turn to snort, causing Peter to shift his attention back to them. Olivia also shot them a suspicious look. Undeterred Etta whispered back, "Technically speaking, that would have to be my older sibling."

"Okay, what's so funny?" Peter asked, a little annoyance beginning to creep in.

"Nothing." Etta dismissed, taking on a serious expression as she deflected. "Just girl talk."

"Girl talk?" Peter raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yep." Etta kept her neutral expression and easily meeting her father's scrutinizing eyes. They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of them willing to back down first.

Olivia meanwhile, had taken a second slice of pizza, and was eating it while watching the show, a smile lingering on her lip as she viewed the interaction between Peter and Etta.

"I've got it!" Walter threw his hands in the air in a victory salute, interrupting the stare contest between his son and granddaughter. His half-eaten slice of pizza went flying through the air towards Astrid, landing topping side down on her shirt.

"Walter!" Astrid stared down at her ruined garment. A huge stain of tomato sauce complete with a garnishing of mushrooms and parmigiana now adorned her chest.

"Calm down Walter!" Peter glared at his father. "Got what?"

"I think I know why Etta is vibrating at a C!" Walter pointed towards his granddaughter, bouncing on his heels. "But I still have to do some calculations."

"That's because Olivia vibrates at a C or because Etta was born in this universe." Peter frowned, not yet understanding the reason behind Walter's enthusiasm. "You said so yourself."

"I know I did!" Walter could hardly contain his excitement as he rebuffed his previous supposition, "But I was wrong!"

* * *

Matt opened his eyes. A throbbing pain pulsed in time with his heart on the right side of his head, reminding him of what had happened.

'Little Olive'

How the hell had she managed to find him after all those years? He had always been careful, keeping his distance, yet always maintaining tabs on her. He wanted to maintain the power and ability to remind her how much of an important part of her life he was, and would continue to be. Every year on the 12th of October, he made sure that she received an appropriate reminder - wherever she was, whatever she may be doing - a birthday card would be waiting for her.

That was why he didn't understand how she'd managed to blindside him so completely. He looked around trying to make sense of where he was.

He'd been tied securely to a chair and aside from being able to turn his head, he was completely unable to move. It seemed he was in a small apartment but from that chair all he could see was a sparsely furnished living room. Curtains covered the widow, keeping him from seeing the outside. He had no idea if he was still in Winsted.

He heard someone moving directly behind him. "Olive?"

"Don't call me that." Matt heard the hardness in Liv's voice.

She walked in front of him, although she was sure to keep her distance. She stood and glared at him, one hand on her hip.

"I like the new look." Matt made a point of giving her an appraising stare from top to bottom.

Liv snorted. "You really are a piece of work." She regarded him with evident distaste. "No wonder she shot you."

Matt frowned at Liv's comment, nevertheless he decided to ignore it. Something else was bothering him. "How'd you find me?"

Liv's lips curled slightly at the corners and said with a shrug, "Call it destiny."

"It was a fluke, wasn't it?" Matt shook his head. "Of course, it had to be. You could never track me. All these years trying to locate me, but you were never able to. Were you?" he taunted, a sneer formed on his lips.

Liv snorted. "Why would sh... I try to locate you? You really are full of yourself. A piece of trash like you is not worth the trouble."

Matt felt his anger boiling up inside him. "You were always a little liar! I know you've been trying to find me! I made sure you wouldn't forget about me!"

Liv lifted her brow. "You made sure?"

Matt snorted, "Don't try to act surprised. I know you received each birthday card I sent. Every single year!"

Liv squinted her eyes and shook her head. "You sent her birthday cards? Jesus, you're nothing but a freakin' stalker."

Matt stared at the auburn-haired Olivia, her surprise seemed genuine. It didn't make any sense. He _knew_ she had received the cards. However, there was something odd about her, but whatever it was, he couldn't quite put his finger on it; and it wasn't the fact that she kept referring to herself in the third person. Which was however, pretty odd.

_'Damn it'_. He cursed to himself. She was probably playing those mind games she had learned at the FBI. That was it. Did she really think that would work on him? The nerve, who did she think she was?! He lifted his chin and sniggered with an explosive exhalation through his nose. Two could play that game. "So what's with the red hair? The blonde didn't get you laid enough?"

Liv tilted her head as she regarded him, but remained resolutely silent. She took a few steps away from him, picked up her phone and dialled a number.

"A nickel's worth of free advice Little Princess, men don't go for uptight bitches like you, who think they can do a man's job better than a man can. Changing the colour of your hair is not going to help."

Liv spoke in hushed tones into the phone when it was answered, ignoring his rant. She kept her distance so he couldn't hear what she was saying, not that he was trying. He was too busy running his mouth to even contemplate listening.

"Tell me. How many men have you had?" Matt shouted "Two, three?" he snorted. "Probably none and that wouldn't surprise me, a cold bitch like you… men wouldn't get near you even if they were held at gun point. It would be like screwing a doll!"

Liv hung up and deposited the phone in her pocket. She stared coldly at the Matt and gave a few steps towards him. "My sexual life should be the least of your concerns right now." She said quietly, leaning towards him making sure he felt the threat she posed to him. She bared her teeth in a grin when he recoiled, not much, but then jerking his head away from her was as much as he could manage in his current predicament. Liv moved in closer and whispered in his ear, "Believe it or not, I'm not who you think I am." Then she straightened up, that vicious smile sill gracing her lips.

Feelings of doubt began to infest Matt's mind once again and a cold chill ran through his spine. Something was definitely not right about her.

Liv kept her eyes fixed on him. "If I was _her_, you would be much safer." She flashed that predatory smile again and winked at him.

* * *

Olivia nodded as she listen to Broyles. "Thank you Sir," she said, then hung up. She pinched the bridge of her nose, reclined in her office chair and let her eyes slide shut. The latest report from the Agents surveilling the antique typewriter store hadn't brought any leads on the whereabouts of her doppelgänger.

Broyles had issued a 'Missing Agent' alert for Olivia Dunham to all other Law Enforcement Agencies, with instructions not to act but to report any sightings directly to the FBI. Their hope was that if the alternate Olivia was spotted, the information would be directed to Broyles once the FBI received a hit on the BOLO and therefore they should avoid other Agencies becoming involved in her capture.

However, they had yet to receive any information or a single positive sighting.

Perhaps Etta was right and by now she had been extracted to the Other Side. It wouldn't make much sense to keep her in this universe, not after her cover had been blown. They knew that Walternate had other agents, shapeshifters, to whom he could turn should he need something doing in this universe.

Maybe it was better to forget about the other Olivia for the moment. It would free them up to focus on retrieving the missing parts of the god forsaken machine.

Olivia massaged her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache starting to bloom. She needed some relief and would have killed for a coffee. She sighed, opened her eyes and looked through the windows of the glass partition that separated her office from the rest of the lab.

Beyond the glass, Walter was totally focused at a white board, scribbling and erasing equations. Astrid and Etta were working to mark off the locations of the wave sync machine components. They had a map on a board and were peppering it with pins as they identified the location of each piece.

Olivia scanned the whole lab, but couldn't see Peter anywhere. He had been multitasking all afternoon, checking in with her for news on any progress in the search, and supporting Astrid and Etta in their task, not to mention keeping an eye on Walter. He'd shuttled back and forth between her office and the workbench that Etta and Astrid occupied at least a couple of times every hour.

But for the past hour Olivia had got caught up in her phone calls, searching for any clues that could lead them to the other Olivia, during which time she had failed to notice Peter's absence.

A terrible thought crossed her mind and with it came a pang in the pit of her stomach which caused nausea to rise into her throat. What if _she_ hadn't crossed over? That instead she had been laying low in the least expected place, right under their noses, waiting patiently to get to Peter in order to bring him back to their universe.

Etta had stated that Walternate hadn't needed Peter to activate the machine, according to what she had been told by Donald. So she had reassured them that Walternate wouldn't come after Peter.

But what if she was wrong?

Etta's presence in their timeline had already altered what had happened originally - from Etta's POV - so, it was anyone's guess what could happen next. Maybe, in this new version of the timeline, Walternate _would_ come after Peter.

One thing Olivia was certain, everything they knew about Walternate, told them that he would resort to any means to achieve his goals and we would not give up easily.

Olivia abruptly got up from her chair, adrenaline already pumping though her system. The possibility that she could be right had put her instantly on edge. Just as she was about to exit her office, the door to the lab thumped opened, almost making Olivia jump off her feet.

The reassuring sight of Peter's silhouette allowed her rapidly thumping heart to slowly return to its regular pace. Olivia took a deep breath trying to steady her nerves.

Peter was carrying a tray laden with cups of coffee and kicked the door closed after him. A smile bloomed on Olivia's face, mostly of relief, but also of gratitude. Of course he would remember that by now she would be in great need of fortification with a dose of the beloved black beverage.

She retreated back to her desk while Peter deposited cups for Astrid and Etta on their workbench and soon after he stepped into the doorway of her office. "Black, one sugar," he informed her, handing one of the cups to her, where she perched on the edge of her desk.

Olivia's smile couldn't get any wider as she thankfully accepted the cup. Their fingers brushed during the brief exchange, prompting their eyes fix upon each other's. She took the first sip, her eyes never leaving Peter's. The coffee warmed her, but not as much as Peter's gaze.

With all that had happened since they'd first kissed, they hadn't had the chance yet to talk about it. Although, talking was not exactly what Olivia was most intent on doing. She watched Peter as he too, took a sip from his coffee, his lips caressing the edge of the cup. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. Absent-mindedly she did the same. The urge to forget about the whole mess and take him home with her, to do the things she had been craving to do for so long, was very nearly overwhelming.

"So, any news?" Peter asked after taking another sip from his coffee. A small smile was playing on his lips. The devious bastard knew exactly what he was doing to her.

Olivia shook her head and pushed her desires to the back of her mind. "Nothing," she informed him, then took another longer pull from her coffee, adopting a more serious demeanour; although she was certain her countenance must be betraying her, she felt flushed and flustered. It was neither the place nor time to be preoccupied by sex... with Peter.

She cleared her throat and broke eye contact with him. There were more pressing issues demanding her attention, which she must - for the meantime at least - focus upon. "Maybe we're looking at this all wrong," Olivia said pushing off her desk, she set her cup down and left it there.

"What do you mean?" Peter's playful smile disappeared, his expression changed instantly becoming more serious. It was one of the things she loved about him and about working with him. He never pushed, always understanding what she wanted or needed, most of the time without it being necessary for her to say a word, so much was communicated merely by them exchanging looks. This rapport extended both ways, she understood him instinctively too.

Peter took a seat on the chair next to Olivia's desk, while Olivia started pacing her office. "What if she's laying low, just waiting for an opportunity to get to you? To take you back to the Other Side?"

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, reclining a bit further on the chair. "Why would she do that? Etta already said that originally in this timeline, my father managed to activate the machine without me. So, he doesn't need me. Although Etta was elusive on how he had done it." His brow furrowed and he turned his head towards the lab, looking at where Etta was working with Astrid. Whatever he was thinking about, he decided not to share.

He looked back at Olivia after a few seconds "Anyhow, why do you think the other Olivia will try to abduct me?"

"I was thinking..." Olivia waved her hands "the fact that Etta is here, already changed things in this timeline. Like you said, originally Walternate managed to activate the machine without you. We don't know how he did it. Etta didn't explain how, because either she doesn't know or doesn't want to say. But whatever it was may never happen now, because of the changes that already occurred. So we have to consider the possibility that he may still need you"

Peter sighed and gave a slight nod "Okay, you may be right. And I also think Etta knows more about this than she's letting on"

Olivia nodded back. She gave a few more steps, her eyes drifting towards Etta. Whatever it was her timetraveling grown-up daughter was omitting, Olivia had a bad feeling about it.

She pushed the thought aside and focused her attention back at Peter "Anyhow, if there's a possibility Walternate may still need you to activate the machine, I bet he will keep her here to get to you. She looks exactly like me Peter. You wouldn't know she wasn't me until it was too late."

Peter tensed at Olivia's words. He abandoned his coffee cup next to hers.

Olivia stopped pacing and stood in front of him. "Think about it. If it wasn't for Etta, it would be _her_ talking to you, right here, and you wouldn't even know it. She is the perfect bait, all she would have to do is be in the right place at the right time, to lure you in. To capture you and take you by force, to the Other Side."

"Olivia..." Peter sighed and lowered his head. He massaged his forehead with his left hand for a few seconds. He raised his head again staring at Olivia. "Honestly, I don't even want to think about that. All the things that Etta told me about… what would have happened if she hadn't intervened..."

Olivia was taken aback by the look on Peter's face. A cross between sadness and self-loathing. She immediately regretted having brought up that subject. "Peter... I didn't mean it that way. I was just trying to prove a point..."

"I know." Peter smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Still, it doesn't make it any less true. She would have fooled me and you would have been trapped on the Other Side. Subjected to brainwashing and torture." He swallowed heavily, suddenly looking pale. It was obvious he was having a hard time dealing with the prospect, the certainty of truth. "Even if Etta has managed to prevent that from happening, I still feel the need to apologize to you."

"Peter," Olivia knelt in front of him grasping one of his hands, she interlaced their fingers and squeezed. "You cannot beat yourself up about something that never happened."

Peter shook his head unwilling to let it go. "But even with the benefit of Etta's intervention, it almost happened Olivia. You went there to save me - to spare me from my biological father and everything he was planning - and you ended up getting caught." He sighed heavily. "And it's my fault. My biological father kidnapped me; but only because Etta came along with a warning, otherwise I would have gone with him willingly. Because I was so damn self-absorbed, so preoccupied with my anger towards Walter and the injustices of his actions, that I didn't even think of what the repercussions might be for all of you, or of what the consequences of my crossing to the Other Side may conceivably be." Peter paused and looked up obviously struggling to control his emotions.

Olivia couldn't remember ever seeing him so forlorn. So heartbroken. He looked back at her and sighed once more. "I didn't even take a moment to say goodbye to you Olivia."

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. He lowered his head once again. The regret and sadness she had seen in his eyes made her heart constrict. She squeezed his hand, making him look at her again. "That might be true, but I can't honestly blame you for feeling that way, in that moment. For being angry at Walter and even at me."

"I wasn't angry at you Olivia." Peter shook his head.

Olivia smiled softly. "But you were disappointed."

Peter remained silent, which to Olivia was confirmation of what she had just said. "I found out about your true origins that night after Jacksonville. It's obvious that you figured it out for yourself; that I knew and that I'd kept that information from you. So you had every right to be disappointed in me.

"Honestly I was heartbroken when you left without even saying goodbye, but I couldn't blame you for it." She took Peter's hand and placed it on her chest, above her heart, her hand on top of his. "But the most important thing to me is that even after that, in the end you chose to come back with me." She smiled at him, her eyes shining. "So please, don't torture yourself about something that almost happened. Because it didn't. That's all that matters. That I'm here, in front of you. The same Olivia that dragged you from Iraq, that... that stayed up all night with you, playing poker in a hotel room with Walter's stash of Necco candy wafers." They both chuckled softly at the memory of that night.

Peter reached for Olivia's face cupping it with his free hand. "I know," he said with a sad smile. "That's what troubles me the most. Even after everything we've been through together, I would still have let myself be fooled by her."

Olivia sighed. "Peter, you seem to forget that I was also fooled - for weeks - by a shapeshifter pretending to be Charlie. We worked together for years, ever since I joined the FBI. He was my best friend and still I didn't suspect a thing. Even his wife didn't know. I worked with that... thing for weeks and never, not even in my wildest dreams did I think that it wasn't Charlie. They are incredibly adept at deception."

She reached for Peter's hand where it still caressed her face. "Even if it had happened as they originally intended, none of it would have been your fault. I know that she would have used your feelings for me to manipulate you. I also know that it would have been very painful for me... for both of us after my eventual return. But still, we would have made it through. Etta is proof undeniable of that. She exists because the bond that we share is so much stronger than anything they can throw at us." She took his hand, placed a soft kiss on his knuckles and closed her eyes.

Olivia let her lips linger on his fingers, savouring the feel and scent of his skin. She opened her eyes and raised her head. Peter was staring at her, his eyes were shimmering and his voice cracked when he spoke, "I have never met anyone like you Olivia." He moved his hand to cup her face once more and leant forward until his forehead gently bumped against in hers. Then he encouraged her to tilt her head until their lips brushed. She placed her hand against his chest and soon bunched his shirt as she pulled him closer to her, mirroring her actions from their kiss on the Other Side.

However, before things could progress further, the door of Olivia's office was thrown wide open and Astrid burst in. "Olivia! Peter!"

They immediately let go of each other, their attention now diverted to the Junior Agent. "You better come down here, Walter wants Etta to transport them to the Other Side!"

* * *

Liv opened the door and stepped aside to let the two men enter. The shorter man had been one of those who'd driven her to the safe house. The other guy, she'd never seen him before. He was taller than her, an handsome man about her age with curly brown hair, scruffy beard and clear green eyes.

"Is that him?" The handsome guy asked.

"Yes." Liv nodded glancing over at her prisoner. She wouldn't have to worry about him for much longer.

Handsome shook his head. "Damn, why did it have to be a creepy old one? I'm going to miss being popular with the ladies"

Liv frowned at the guy's comment.

"You still don't have the guts, do you?" The stepfather spat at Liv. "No, you're weak, so you had to call a man to do your dirty work. You don't have the stomach for it, you never did."

The two men surrounded the man responsible for much of this Universe's Olivia Dunham's torment. He ignored them, his eyes locked onto Liv with rage burning in them. "You're worthless, you always were! Just like your mother, always whining!"

Liv clenched her jaw. The man meant nothing to her and still he was getting under her skin. She almost felt sympathetic towards her Alternate, having to endure a childhood under the care of such a hateful bigot.

"Hold him." Handsome told to the short guy. He did so, grabbing the stepfather's head and tried to force his mouth wide by clamping his right hand to Matt's lower jaw.

The stepfather struggled, trying to free himself from his restraints and the guy behind. All the while continuing to spew obscenities, mostly aimed at Liv.

The handsome guy took a small square device from his pocket. He pulled a flat triangular plate away, which featured three short, but viscously sharp spikes jutting out from it. He spooled it out on a thin wire. He raised his left hand, preparing to strike the thrashing man with the aim of subduing him.

"Wait!" Liv interrupted. "Allow me." And with that she stepped in and balled her fist. She spared a moment to enjoy the look of dumb shock displayed in Matt's eyes and the disbelieving gape of his jaw, as he registered her fist sailing towards him. She punched the vile man flush in the face with everything she had. His head rocked back, his eyes rolled and resistance ceased to be an issue.

Handsome nodded to her respectfully, then got on with his task. He jammed the plate into the roof of the stepfather's mouth. Then he pulled a second identical string from the other side of the device and inserted into in his own mouth, grimacing as the spikes pierced his palate.

"I really hate this bit!" he said, now with a pronounced lisp, then grunted as he applied pressure to his face with the heels of his hands, crushing his facial bones with a series of sickening snaps and pops. By the time he relented, his face was a squashed, lumpy mess.

He fiddled with the controls on the device and in a matter of moments, and no short amount of pain, the man's appearance started to change.

Liv observed the transformation with morbid fascination. She had been informed about the shapeshifters, but seeing it happen close hand was something else altogether. A look of disgust came over her face as she watched the bones and features as they reformed, in a matter of moments, the shapeshifter had assume the look of the stepfather.

Once the process was completed, the shapeshifter removed the device from his mouth and from the body of the stepfather who'd been rendered lifeless by the same process that had entirely transformed the appearance of the once handsome man. His body was now unhealthily thin and his is face was gaunt, with straggly white stubble on his sunken cheeks. Icy eyes stared at Liv and a familiar sneer formed, revealing crooked, stained teeth. "It's done."

* * *

**A/N Thanks to all of you still reading this. Specially those who take time to review, it means a lot.  
Svenja, Ruben and Guest, thank you for your reviews. I like to answer to everyone who review my stories, but since you don't have an account, I'm thanking you now.  
Like the others, your reviews motivate me to continue with the story, so once more, thank you for taking the time to review and I hope you also enjoy this chapter.  
**

**Off course, it goes without saying that Crys deserves major kudos for her additions on this chapter.  
Thanks mate, you're the best!**

**One final note. About Olivia being more subjective to get 'tipsy' when she drinks champaign, that is cannon because Elialys said so. Just check her 'In Reverse' story and that is enough for me :)**


	24. Bitter Secrets

**Chapter 24 – Bitter Secrets**

The lab was dark and silent. A coat of dust covered every workbench, save for one, and almost every item upon them. Some of the more delicate machines had sheets covering them; an attempt to protect them from the passing of time. However the place was not entirely untouched, all around was the unmistakable evidence of recent activity; a trail of footprints - two distinct sets – leading around the lab, which became concentrated in the floor space at the centre of the room. There it had been left essentially dust free, as was the nearest workbench and a few select items dotted around the area.

No one had worked there for a long time, apart from an intrusion the day before, the Harvard lab at the Kresge Building had remained essentially unused and untouched for decades.

But that was about to change.

Two figures materialized out of nowhere into that same clear space in the middle of the lab.

"Let me turn the flashlight on Walter," Etta struggled with the switch, while she kept her gun in the other hand, not yet feeling secure enough to drop it back into its holster. "Damn it! Why didn't I turn this on before we crossed over?" she chided herself.

"This is truly remarkable dear! We really crossed over to my alternate's lab!" Walter walked straight towards the spot at the bench where he had worked with Bell, assembling the particle accelerator. "I was right here yesterday with Belly!" He pointed at the floor, bouncing with excitement.

"Walter come here and don't touch anything!" Etta said in a muffled voice after finally getting the flash light to flick on. "Let's do your experiment and get out of here as soon as possible. I don't know if they've had motion sensors installed here. After your break in, it's possible that they may be keeping the lab under surveillance, so I wouldn't be surprised if they come barging in at any moment." She turned in a three hundred and sixty degree spin, directing the light beam around the empty lab, looking for anything suspicious.

"Yes, yes, you're right dear." Walter moved back towards the spot where they had crossed over.

Lying on the floor was the oscilloscope they had brought from their side, modified to run off a portable battery, which was already connected and ready to run. Etta placed the flashlight on a nearby workbench pointing its beam towards the spot the electronic device occupied.

"Very well dear, give me your hands." Walter picked up one of the needles attached to the oscilloscope. Etta laid the back of her hands in front of her and Walter repeated what he had done hours before on their side, inserting one needle on each hand and again on each side of Etta's forehead.

Walter squinted his eyes trying to read the functions of the dials as he tuned the electronic device, the sparse light from the flashlight Etta had brought wasn't helping. "I think... no, no it's too dark I can't see!"

"Let me see it." Etta moved to try to see what Walter was doing.

"No! You cannot move. Stand still dear." Walter got up and picked up the flashlight from the workbench. He directed it to the oscilloscope and continued to fiddle with the controls until it settled on a frequency, detected from the electrodes connected to Etta. "There, 392.0 Hertz!" Walter got up still holding the flashlight which he swept towards Etta, the cone of light washing across her face, making her squint her eyes and attempt to shield herself with her hands.

"I knew it! 392.0 Hertz, tremendous!" Walter tapped both feet on the ground and gesticulated with his arms excitedly.

Mercifully freed from the glare, Etta set about removing the needles. "I'm glad it worked as you expected Walter."

"Can't you see how remarkable this is?!" he enthused and jabbed a finger towards the oscilloscope.

Etta chuckled, "No, I really don't. What I want is to get back. Stand still Walter I'm going to cross us back again." The next instant, they materialised back on their side.

Olivia, Peter and Astrid were gathered at a nearby workbench, their attention focused on a sheet of paper held by Astrid. Peter was the first to notice them. "Finally!" he breathed sounding relieved. He walked towards them and gave a gentle squeeze to Etta's shoulder. "I still don't know why on earth you agreed to cross over with Walter, just to prove a silly theory."

"It's not silly, my boy!" Walter pointed his finger to the air with enthusiasm. "I just proved that she is both your daughter _and_ that she is truly remarkable!"

"Well, you didn't need to travel between universes, _again_, for that. I already know she's remarkable," Peter commented with a wink for Etta. She gave a shy smile and lowered her head.

"And we've already got proof that she is Olivia and Peter's daughter," Astrid apprised, as she and Olivia came to join them. The Junior Agent handed the printout they'd been studying to Walter.

The older Bishop plucked the paper from Astrid's hand taking a few moments to examine it.

"The DNA test confirms conclusively that you are our daughter." Olivia smiled at Etta.

"Of course she is!" Walter said petulantly, while balling up the paper which he tossed away haphazardly. "I already told you, I've already proven it!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "And how did you prove it Walter? What reading did you get on the other side?"

"392.0 Hertz!" Walter clapped his hands.

"Seriously?" Peter frowned.

"Mm-hmm." Walter hummed with excitement and bounced on his heels.

"Wow." Peter looked over to Etta. "That… I didn't see it coming."

"But what does that mean?" Olivia asked, playing devil's advocate, she shifted her eyes between Walter and Peter, the wrinkles forming above her nose were a tell-tale sign of her puzzlement.

"Yeah, what's so remarkable about my natural frequency, whatever that is?" Etta crossed both arms in front of her chest, leaning against a workbench.

"We all resonate at the frequency of our native universe, no matter where we are. I'm proof of that," Peter explained. "It's why you can see me glimmer." He added, addressing Olivia who nodded her understanding. Then he turned to Etta and continued, "But you seem to be able to adjust your body frequency to whichever universe you are in, at any given moment. That is remarkable. It stands to reason that this is why they are unable to detect your interuniversal movement on their scanners. When you crossover, you do it without disturbing the fabric between realities."

"But their sensors registered when I crossed over the first few times I tried, in my timeline. It was Donald that taught me how to do it without detection. I just have to crossover, kinda..." Etta shrugged, almost at a loss for words to explain what she was doing - to her it was all instinct and sensation, she'd simply not had chance to think about the mechanics of what she had been doing - she settled simply on, "more slowly."

"Because your body needs time to make the adjustment, it makes sense!" Walter grabbed Etta by the shoulders. "That way when you reach the other side you do it with your body already tuned to a sympathetic frequency, that's why Donald told you to do it more slowly! And when someone or something tags along with you, they do not disturb the fabric between the universes either, even if they resonate at a different frequency, because you are the conduit to the crossing! This is so exciting!" He enveloped Etta in a tight hug, one on the brink of making it hard for her to breathe.

Peter chuckled and grabbed Walter, making him release Etta. "You've proved your theory Walter and more importantly we also have the DNA evidence that Broyles wanted.

"Now let's all go home, because this has been one hell of a day." He turned his attention back at Etta. "Kiddo, your choice, do you want to stay with mom or dad?" Peter gave her a sideways grin.

Etta chuckled, her smile couldn't get any wider. She looked between Peter and Olivia, biting her lower lip. "I'll stay with Olivia... if that's okay with you?" She looked to her mother, anticipation openly displayed on her face.

"Sure, it's okay," Olivia gave a light squeeze to Etta's arm.

Etta turned to her father, "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not." He shook his head and gave her a smile.

"But... But I was planning on making you pancakes with the famous Bishop recipe for breakfast..." Walter stared at Etta, his lower lip curving downward, almost to a pout.

Peter grabbed Walter by the shoulders directing him to the door. "You'll make her pancakes another day." Peter leant in towards Etta as they passed by her. "FYI, I wouldn't mind staying with Olivia too," he said in a low voice and winked at her.

"Why? Does Agent Dunham make better pancakes then I do? Is that why everyone wants to stay with her?" Walter asked, having overheard. Then he stopped, his face brightening as if having realized something important. "Oh! Silly me, it's not because of the pancakes!" He turned to Peter and pressed one finger to his son's chest. "You're anticipating having intercourse with Olivia! That's why you want to stay with her!" Walter all but growled and gave Peter a crooked smile.

"Walter, let's go!" Peter pushed him again - eager to put a stop to Walter's analysis - almost causing him to stumble on the stairs.

"It's perfectly natural son, you can go with them if you want, I don't mind." Walter turned towards Peter, putting his back to the small flight of stairs at the entrance of the lab, making Peter's attempt to get him out of the lab just a little harder. "But perhaps try to refrain from being too vociferous during your amorous activities." Walter pressed on "Although it is healthy and increases sexual performance, ordinarily I'm a strong advocate of it. But it could be awkward - traumatic even - for your daughter, having to listen to her parents having intercourse." The elder Bishop tried to get free from Peter's grasp with some success, his attention shifting to Etta. "Dear, I can give you a small dose of my home grown recreational drugs. I assure you, after a little Brown Betty, you won't care less about what your parents are doing in the bedroom." He winked jovially at Etta.

The younger Bishop gave him an awkward smile, her cheeks flushing slightly. Astrid put her hand on front of her mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh. Olivia just rolled her eyes.

Peter grabbed him once more, "Walter new rule; no drugs for Etta." He spun him around and pushed him towards the exit. "Besides, she has you for a grandfather, awkward and traumatic is something she will have to learn to live with. I know I did." And with that, both Bishop men left the lab.

* * *

Liv fidgeted on the back seat of the stationary car. The Secretary's agents had taken the front seats. The shapeshifter that had assumed Olivia's stepfather's identity – previously going by the name Luke Thurston - had claimed the passenger seat. While the smaller man - Joseph Feller – whom Liv assumed was also a shapeshifter, was behind the wheel.

Her orders had finally come through by late afternoon, putting an end to almost an entire day of sitting around doing nothing. Apart from her unexpected encounter with her Alternate's stepfather, it had been a wearisome day.

Her initial orders, before her cover had been blown, had been to covertly lead the Fringe team from this universe towards the pieces of the Wave Sinc Device of this side.

That would be accomplished by provoking a series of incidents, with the help from the Secretary's men. Those incidents would be investigated by the Fringe team and would provide them with leads directing them towards the locations of the machine's buried components.

Once the Fringe team had unearthed the pieces, Liv would retrieve the missing piece - the one that had never been found on the Other Side - taking advantage of her infiltrated position within this side's Fringe Division enabling her to return it to the Secretary. However, since Liv's position had been compromised, they had been forced to modify the plan.

They would still trigger the incidents, thus leading the Fringe team towards the Wave Sinc Machine. Then they would wait until all the pieces had been located and after that, Liv would infiltrate whatever facility the machine fragments had been stored in, relying on her resemblance to their Olivia Dunham to gain access. Once inside, she would steal the component the Secretary needed to complete the machine on their side. Then she would return home.

The plan had been put in motion immediately.

It was almost 2am and they had been parked outside a house in Milton, on the outskirts of Boston, for more then an hour, closely watching for activity indicating the job had been completed. A crew had been hired to retrieve a box from the earth beneath the foundations, it was known to be a location of a wave sinc fragment. The crew should be hard at work in the basement and by now should be getting close to reaching their goal. Little did they know that the box was rigged with an ultrasonic safeguard that would turn their brains into mush if they were to open the insulated case.

"Are you sure these guys are reliable?" Liv asked Joe.

"Newton worked with them a few times. They are as reliable as they are predictable. They will open the box." Joe reported, still staring at the house, not bothering to turn around.

The Fringe Agent huffed, she hated when someone talked to her without looking her in the eyes. It pissed her off as much as being patronized. She pushed away her annoyance and pressed on. "There were only supposed to be two, but we saw three going in."

"Don't worry, they will all die."

"And what about the family? They're safe as long as they're not in the basement aren't they?" The hired hands had been told to contain the residents upstairs as soon as they stormed the house and before they commenced work. "Only crew in the basement will be affected, right?"

Joe finally bothered to turn towards her in the back-seat. "Why do you think we're keeping this distance? If we were any closer you would probably be killed too." He said, not sounding troubled in the slightest. He turned again towards the front of the car, resuming watch of the house.

Liv leant suddenly forwards, into the gap between the front seats. "The whole family is going to die? But they're innocents!"

Once again Joe turned to her, his annoyance at her questioning becoming obvious. He glared at her. "Are you forgetting which is your side?"

"Of course not," Liv bit back, "but that family... they've done nothing against us."

"The millions that are trapped in Amber on our side, what did they do to this world to deserve such a fate?" he asked and stared steadfastly at Liv.

She kept her eyes on the shapeshifter for a few seconds, but opted not to proceed with the discussion despite the indignation she felt burning in her mind. It was obvious she and this, thing, had very different opinions when it came to the ethics of war.

Liv finally sat back in her seat. But she didn't remain still. She fidgeted nervously, the mission was starting to get to her. She knew when she had accepted, that it wouldn't be a walk in the park and that though choices would have to be made for the 'greater good'. But dealing first hand with the consequences of such choices, which now involved the death of an innocent family, was something she was having a hard time rationalizing.

Liv looked at the second floor of the house. The family had surely been asleep, oblivious that events were about to be set in motion, that would mean that they would never see another day. She swallowed heavily. 'Collateral Damage' was such a tawdry tag to put on the brutal murder of an innocent family and did nothing to make her conscience any lighter. She hoped that they wouldn't feel any pain.

A thought crossed her mind, one that made a chill course through her. "Are there children in the house?" Her voice broke the heavy silence that had settled in the car.

"I have no idea," Joe answered, again without looking at Liv, his tone detached.

The guy was starting to get on Liv's nerves, he was repulsive. She had the sudden urge to get away from him, so she got out of the car.

"Where are you going!?" Joe asked also leaving the car. Luke fallowed suit, trailing after them.

Liv stopped and rounded on Joe. "You seem to forget who is running this operation. So you better pray that there are no kids in that house." She jabbed her finger at the small man's chest.

"The Secretary may disagree with that, since you managed to blow your cover." Joe sneered, his eyes fixed on Liv's.

"I did not blow anything," she accentuated each word. Then made a show of looking around. "I don't see the Secretary here, so I'm in charge." She jabbed her finger once more into Joe's chest, driving her point home. "Deal with it."

"Whoa guys, take it easy!" Luke put himself between the waring pair, parting them with a shove for each. "It's two in the morning and we're in a residential area, so let's not draw unnecessary attention to ourselves okay?" He looked from one to the other. "We are all on the same side, right?" Luke lowered his arms, slowly. He turned to Liv. "Agent Dunham, there are no children in the house, I checked. The house belongs to a couple in their mid-40's, they have a 19 year old daughter. The wife's mother, a 76 year old, also lives with them."

Liv shook her head. "A 19 year old girl." Luke nodded, giving the confirmation she wished hadn't come. "Jesus," Liv whispered and shook her head again. Then her stare, and bitterness once more found their mark in Joe.

But before things could escalate again, the lights of the house flickered erratically, drawing the attention of the group. "Look, they must have opened the box," Luke said. "Stay here Agent Dunham, I'll go check the family."

"I better go with him," Joe said.

"Yeah, I think that would be best." Liv voiced with distain. Joe shot her a look, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He hurried after Luke, leaving the Fringe Agent alone with her thoughts.

Liv slouched heavily against the car and watched the two shapeshifters as they let themselves in. She crossed her arms in front of her and tapped her fingers against her elbows, anxiety flooding her through not knowing what was exactly happening inside the house.

A flicker of movement in the shadows at the side of the house caught her attention. A tall figure walked between the trees separating the house from the next building. She tracked the movement of a man, who it seemed was retreating from the rear of the house. But what really caught Liv's attention was the object he carried, his chopped stride suggested he was moving with some effort; he had with him a heavy metal box.

She peered further back into the shadows to the rear of the house, but as far as she could see, there was no sign of either of the shapeshifters.

Liv un-holstered her gun and strode towards the man. "Hey!" she shouted. He had his back to her and kept his pace, his attention fully on the box, he seemed hypnotized by it.

"Stop or I'll shoot." Liv warned, keeping her tone low, hoping to avoid alarming the neighbours. The less people coming into contact with this thing the better, however she knew that in the quiet of the night, she should have been easily heard. However he kept moving, totally ignoring Liv's orders. She moved in closer swiftly yet cautiously, her gun never wavering from her target.

_'Damn it!'_ Liv cursed inwardly and quickened her pace until she reached the man. She grabbed his arm making him turn towards her. "I said stop! Are you deaf!?" She raised the gun leaving no chance he would not realise what it was, or fail to understand that he had no chance of escape.

The man, probably in his late 20's, frowned at her as he held the box against his chest.

"Put the box down slowly." Liv ordered.

The man tilted his head slightly. His eyes darted in agitation between the box and Liv, until they settled on the top of the box. His right hand slid slowly towards the lid. A muffled snap originating from behind her took Liv by surprise. She didn't bother to turn, it was a sound she was well acquainted with, recognizing almost instantly even as the sound died on the night air. A small cylindrical hole had been bored into the man's forehead, confirming that she had heard a round discharged from a weapon equipped with a suppressor. Blood began lazily oozing from the small hole. Her quick reflexes kicked in even before the man's knees buckled, she secured the box before it could fall to the ground and neatly dodged the man's body with a step to her right, as it dropped lifelessly forwards.

Liv turned sharply around. "Was that really necessary?"

The two shapeshifters were hustling across the lawn, closing in fast. "Not really," Joe reflected as they reached her. "But I thought you might prefer your brain wasn't liquefied, unlike like everyone else inside that house."

"He was going to put the box down," Liv clenched her jaw, tightening her hold on the box.

"Well, it didn't look that way to me. I just saved your life. You're welcome, by the way." Joe reached out to take the item. "Give me the box, we have to put it back inside."

"Here." She shoved the box towards Joe, wanting him and the damn box as far away from her as possible.

"Put the body in the trunk, we have to get rid of it. I'll be right back." Joe turned on his heal and set off back to the house.

Liv kept staring after the small man, her hand clenching tightly on the grip of her gun, fighting the urge to empty the clip while his back was to her.

"I don't understand why he didn't die." Liv turned around at the sound of Luke's voice. He had crouched near the body.

"He looks pretty dead to me," Liv said darkly as she walked towards the shapeshifter.

"Can you take his legs please?" Luke asked as he grabbed the body by the armpits.

Liv did as he asked and together they carried the body towards the car.

"What I meant was, why didn't he die _inside_ the house, when the box was opened. Everybody else did, even the family on the first floor." Luke stopped near the back of the car. "Drop his legs and open the trunk, I've got him."

Liv popped the trunk, helped him load the body inside and then closed the lid. "The family is dead?" she queried.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Luke said, his eyes drifted towards the first floor of the house.

Liv was finding it increasingly difficult to reconcile this Shapeshifter's personality with the body he now inhabited. She could see why Luke had said that he considered himself a bit of a lady magnet, which, while helped by his appearance in his previous incarnation, that alone wouldn't have been the whole story. If he'd had an attitude like Joe's, he would have been a turn off no matter what he looked like. Luke was more sensitive, whether that was programming or learned behaviour, Liv had no clue. Somehow she couldn't help but think that Joe would have been far more suited to taking on the identity of the Olivia's stepfather.

She sighed. "You said that the box emits ultrasonic sound waves, powerful enough to liquefy the human brain?"

"Yes."

"I called the guy twice, told him I'd fire my weapon and he didn't even flinch. He just kept walking. I had to grab his arm to get his attention. Then when I asked him to put the box on the floor he seemed... confused. I thought he was playing games with me, I even asked him if he was deaf. Maybe he was."

Luke nodded, "Yes... that's probably it. It would explain why he wasn't effected."

"Jesus!" Liv said and ran a hand through her hair as she came to a moment of realization. "If we had done this like we had planned initially, if I was still infiltrated, no one from our team would have been here watching. The guy would have walked away with the damned box. Can you imagine the potential he held in his hands for wreaking havoc? Or after seeing the devastation that it had caused, I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd chosen a remote location to bury the box again. The Fringe team on this side may never have found it."

Luke shrugged. "I guess we were lucky to be here."

"Ok. It's done," Joe said, having re-joined them. "I've placed it back in the basement, near the hole they dug to get to it."

"Let's get out of here then," Liv said opening the car door. "Tomorrow we have the number stations to take care of."

The shapeshifters followed her lead and got into the car. They drove away, disappearing into the night.

* * *

Etta opened her eyes, her mind slowly adjusting from the haze of a deep sleep to consciousness, while luxuriating in the comfort and warmth of her mom's guest bed. She hadn't felt so well rested and relaxed since she had arrived in the original timeline, maybe not ever throughout her adult life.

Etta squinted to take a peek at the alarm clock on the night stand and grunted to herself when she discovered that it was almost 8:30am.

She got up and sat on the edge of the bed. She knew her mother was a morning person - like herself - her aunt Rachel had mentioned it several times. Olivia would probably been up for well over an hour, most likely closer to two. Then again they had been on the go for more than twenty four hours the previous day, so it wouldn't be unexpected if her mother was later than usual in getting up too.

Etta stood, absorbing the quiet of the apartment and trying to detect any sounds coming from outside of her bedroom.

They had stayed up the night before talking and sharing a couple of drinks. As the evening wore on, Olivia had expressed her irritation with her hair, still styled to resemble her alternate's. She might not be able to do anything about the bangs, but she wanted her natural hair colour back as soon as possible. They'd taken a late night walk, and stopped by a 24hr drug store, looking for hair colour remover. Their mission had been a success and they set to work as soon as they got back home.

Helping her mom apply the colour remover was one of the most gratifying experiences she had had in a long time, not the job itself, but it served as a moment of bonding between the two of them. She gained something she had never dreamt she could experience with her mother, the opportunity to engage in free flowing conversion, springing up between them spontaneously, while they performed the task. Although Etta did most of the talking, with Olivia asking questions now and then.

Mostly it was related to Etta's life in her timeline. She talked about her childhood, her time in Portland being raised by Aunt Rachel and Uncle Greg; which came much to Olivia's surprise; she'd said she would never have imagined Greg being there, taking care not only of his family but also stepping up to raise his niece – her daughter, when she had been unable to.

Etta told of her return to Boston. Of joining the Resistance with Eddie, her cousin, always by her side. Chasing the faint hope that her parents may still be alive, trapped in amber, only to find the silicone mannequins on the same day she had met Donald.

The surprised look on her mother's face was not missed by Etta when she mentioned Eddie for the first time, the nephew Olivia didn't have in this timeline. Etta explained how close they were, he was like a brother to her, always with her, always having her back. She told Olivia how hard it had been saying goodbye to him and having to deal with the fact they would never see each other again. Once the reset would be undone, Eddie would disappear along with the entirety of Etta's timeline.

She showed Olivia a photo they had taken on the night they had gone out for drinks with Trevor on the Other Side. Olivia had stared at the photo for quite some time. The resemblance between Eddie and Olivia's father was uncanny. There was no doubt he was Rachel's son.

Etta also spoke in detail about her first proper crossing to the Other Side; how helpful everybody had been Over There, especially Walternate. She told her mom how different he was from the man who existed in this timeline and how invaluable his help had been in planning and preparing for the mission.

By the end of what had turned out to be a very late night, Etta felt closer to her mother than she'd ever expected she could. Cemented in the moment when Olivia had enveloped her in an instinctive hug when Etta cracked and burst in tears while talking about Eddie. Comforting her in that embrace, giving her shelter, time to think and simply feel. Etta felt safe in the power of her mother's protection, a fact that only made her cry more. Olivia held her for a long time, murmuring words of comfort.

Etta's reverie was broken by the soft sound of her mom's voice from beyond the confines of her bedroom. She was speaking in hushed tones, most likely not wanting to wake Etta prematurely.

Etta smiled and jumped from the bed. She grabbed the pair of worn sweatpants that Olivia had left for her and pulled them on. She would definitely have to buy some clothes for herself as she hadn't brought much with her. Clothes had been very low on her list of concerns when she had been preparing to travel through time.

Would Olivia go with her? She knew her mother wasn't one of those women that loved shopping, her aunt Rachel used to remind her of that constantly when she was growing up in Portland. _'__You're your mother's daughter alright,__'_ Rachel would say whenever she had to drag Etta to the few clothes stores still open for business. Etta hated shopping, but somehow the idea of going to a mall, mostly the prospect of just spending some more time there with her mom, made her feel giddy.

She stepped beyond the threshold of the guest room and took a peek at the small kitchen. It was empty as she expected.

"You are not responsible for him anymore, Rachel. You can't go running every time Greg gets himself into some trouble," Etta heard Olivia's voice coming from the living room.

Etta wandered a few steps closer, but stopped short at the entrance. Her mother was sitting on the couch, already dressed in what it seemed her usual outfit, a dark pant suit and a crisp white shirt. Her jacket was discarded on the other side of the couch, her sleeves were folded a couple of turns above her wrists. She was barefoot and had her left leg folded and trapped under her.

Olivia was holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder while tapping the keys of the laptop which stood on the small table in front of her. She shook her head a few times, an involuntary response to whatever Rachel was saying to her from the other end of the line.

Her head snapped up when she noticed Etta watching from the doorway. Olivia smiled and covered the speaker of the phone with her hand. "Hi there," she greeted in a low voice. "There's coffee, cereal and toast in the kitchen if you want. I'll be with you in a minute, I'm talking to Rachel."

"Tell her I said 'Hi'," Etta said also keeping her voice down, with a crooked grin on her face.

Olivia raised an eyebrow and gave Etta a stern look. Etta bit her lower lip and looked down, apparently her mother didn't appreciate her smartass sense of humour.

She wandered towards the kitchen in search of a cup of coffee. Olivia talked a few more seconds with Rachel before hanging up. After, she got up to join Etta. In that moment, watching as her mom strode towards her, Etta felt once again like her three year old self, about to get a reprimand. Olivia kept her stern look as she stopped in front of her daughter. "Peter's smart ass humour, is something I really wish you hadn't inherited."

Etta looked down once again, "Sorry... I didn't mean..." her sentence trailed off, deflated. When she looked up, Olivia was regarding her with a wide smile on her face.

"It's okay," Olivia said with a light chuckle and gave Etta a light pat on her shoulder. "I was only joking. Come on, let's make you some breakfast."

Etta shook her head and smiled, it seemed her mom had her own unique brand of humour too, she could imagine her teasing her father just like this. She was also discovering that in her own way she was as difficult to read as Etta was herself.

"But honestly," Olivia said as she took a cup from the kitchen cabinet. "I would much rather that you'll use it on Peter. It would be fun seeing him getting a taste of his own medicine." She wiggled her right eyebrow making Etta giggle. "Coffee?" Olivia asked.

Etta nodded. "Yes, please."

Olivia shook her head as she poured the thick black brew into the cup, she said, "I can't really imagine how Rachel would react if she knew that my grown up daughter is staying over." She chuckled to herself and passed a cup to Etta. "Cereal, toast or both?" she asked taking out a box of sugar frosted cereal. "I don't have much in I'm afraid. I bet you wished you'd stayed with Peter and Walter now don't you? You could have been enjoying a gourmet breakfast."

Etta shook her head immediately. "Toast is fine," she replied. "I have to be honest, I would love to see both Aunt Rachel and Ella." She took a sip from the cup, her stare fixed on the vapour rising from the surface of the beverage, but her mind far away in another timeline.

"I'm sure that you will. As soon as Rachel gets things straight in Chicago, I believe she will return. She had her eye on a house here in Boston. She's been very keen on moving here with Ella," Olivia commented as she popped two slices of bread into the toaster.

Etta took another sip from her coffee. "It's still so strange to me; that Aunt Rachel divorced Uncle Greg," she sighed. "I'll just have to get used to it. And it's not like she will know who I really am, if I get to meet her. It's just... if they hadn't divorced, then maybe..." Etta shrugged and looked down, thoughts of her cousin once again making it hard to speak.

Olivia grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, "I know." She gave Etta a comforting smile. "I'm so sorry about Eddie." Etta nodded, smiling back at her mother.

The slices of bread popped out from the toaster. Olivia was like lightning, she grabbed the butter and spread it on the piping hot toast. "Here" she offered them to Etta.

"Thank you." Etta helped herself, and took a bite of what was unquestionably, the best toast she'd ever eaten.

Olivia pursed her lips, her eyes fixed on her daughter. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

Etta swallowed her mouthful of toast. "Go ahead."

"How did Walternate manage to activate the machine without Peter?"

Etta stared at her mother, she had not been expecting that question.

The day before she had explained how Walternate had found an alternative way of activating the machine. She had only brought it up to reassure everyone that Peter was safe, that Walternate would not come after him. But as good as her intentions had been, her revelation had led to the complication of an unanswered question. One she didn't want to respond to, the same one that Peter had asked immediately. How had Walternate accomplished it? Etta had managed to shrug it off at the time, claiming that Donald hadn't told her how, and her father had seemed to accept it.

She should have expected that her mother would not drop the issue so easily. "I told you that Donald didn't explain that to me," Etta tried with a faint, pained smile.

Olivia sighed. "Etta, I'm sorry but I'm finding that hard to believe. If Donald had knowledge of how to activate the machine without Peter, that would be very important for us to know. If there is a way to activate that hideous device without Peter setting foot in it, I would very much like to know how." Olivia ran her hand through her hair, and focused the full weight of her green eyes on Etta. The look wasn't a glare, it was somehow both gently probing and intense, conveying conviction and it was totally impossible to ignore. The Observers in her timeline had tried and failed, time and again to penetrate Etta's defences, but her mother could manage it with a simple look. "It seems to me that you know what happened, or will happen, but for some reason you don't want to tell us." Olivia concluded. Etta remained silent.

Olivia let out a frustrated sigh. "I really can't imagine what could be worse than letting Peter step inside that thing."

"It's just that..." Etta shook her head feeling flustered, "It's not important really, my intervention has already changed the course of events," she tried one last time to shake Olivia off the scent. "And I explained that with the part of the machine I brought with me Peter will not be in danger, he won't disappear after stepping out of the machine. Besides someone has to be inside it to control the Wave Sinc Machine so that it can create the bridge. Because Peter is the only one who can link with the machine to achieve that, Walternate's attempt without him would only destroy both Universes."

Olivia's brow furrowed, the silent green inquisition unwavering. "And how did Walternate manage that?"

"What?" Etta looked confused at her mother, it took her a few seconds to realise that she had just slipped.

"You just said that 'Peter is the only one who can link with the machine to achieve that, Walternate's attempt without him would only destroy both Universes' referring to how Walternate activated the machine. So you do know how he did it." Olivia narrowed her eyes "You also said 'It's not important really, my intervention has already changed the course of events'. If that's the case, I don't see why you can't share it with me. Even if the piece of the machine you brought with you will ensure Peter's safety."

Etta felt a lump form in her throat, yet she still had the presence of mind to inwardly curse her mom's eidetic memory.

She had no idea how her mother would react if she told her the truth. Donald and Astrid both had advised her not to tell Olivia about Henry.

Etta sighed. Her mother kept that intensely probing look on her, she knew that Olivia would not give up and she had no desire to lie to her. Etta decided to give her something, hoping that Olivia would be satisfied with it and would drop the issue.

"Walternate managed to obtain a sample of Peter's DNA. With that, he built some kind of interface and through that, was able to activate the machine without him."

Olivia nodded. "Okay. But how did he get access to Peter's DNA?" she asked.

Etta swallowed once more. She kept staring at her mother, unsure on how to proceed. Olivia squinted her eyes, perhaps sensing that she was getting close. "Is this it, the reason you are reluctant to tell me the truth? That means it wasn't DNA recovered from Peter during the time he spent on the Other Side." Olivia waved her hand in front of her and made a leap. "_She_ took Peter's DNA with her when she escaped. Didn't she?"

Etta gave a single nod. It was amazing how her mother connected the dots so easily. Etta had always known how good of an investigator Olivia was, but seeing it happen in front of her eyes was mesmerizing. She only wished that the demonstration had come in regard to something else.

"But I still don't understand why you would make such a big secret out of it." Olivia said with a shake of her head, the look of concentration still present. Then the questioning continued, "According to what you told us, she stayed here for weeks and they dated, so it would be natural that she would be the one to acquire the sample of Peter's DNA. It would be easy for her. But how did she know that she needed to take it? I really can't see... " Olivia froze, her stare fixed on Etta, but now it was filled with dismay. The younger Bishop knew that her mother had figured it out right then.

Olivia put the back of her hand on front of her mouth. "Oh god... they went further than dating, didn't they?" Her eyes shimmered, wet with barely contained fury. "She got pregnant."

"Mom, please..." Etta tried to put her arms around Olivia, but before she could do it, her mother raised her hand stopping her.

"It's okay Etta," Olivia swiped her eyes with the back of her hand, stopping the tears that were threatening to fall. "You were right to tell me. Now we know that there is another way to activate the machine." She cleared her throat and took a deep breath "With this knowledge, Walter and Peter may be able to build an interface to activate the machine, one capable of creating the Bridge."

"But you cannot tell dad!" Etta protested. In frustration she scrubbed her hands over her face and into her hair, trying to regain her composure. "I assure you that there has to be someone _in_ the machine to create the Bridge. There is no other way." Etta sighed once more still trying to calm herself. "Besides if we tell Peter how Walternate was able to activate the machine, we would probably have to tell him everything. How do you think he would react if we told him everything that would have happened if I hadn't come along? That because of my intervention in the timeline, his son - even if his conception was conceived based on a lie - will never have the chance to exist?"

A hollow snort escaped from Olivia's mouth "Would you think less of me if I were to say that I'm glad for it?" she asked bitterly.

Etta shook her head. "No, I wouldn't. That child was never supposed to exist. Although he was innocent, he only came to be because of my grandfather's manipulations and the fact that Fauxlivia used his feelings for you to trick him.

"He was destined to be wiped out along with Peter when the timeline was reset. Dad only found out about him through September, a few months after he returned in the new timeline." Etta tentatively grabbed Olivia's arm, giving it a gently consoling rub. "Aunt Astrid told me something right after I learned about the boy. Believe me that I too was really mad and upset with dad for doing that to you. But she told me that he didn't cheat on you. You both were cheated, by Walternate and Fauxlivia. The whole time he was with her he honestly believed she was you. Everything he did with her, he thought he was doing with you. The whole time."

Olivia shook her head slightly. "I believe you Etta, in everything you are saying. But what does it say about me if the man that I love, the person that knows me the best and whom I trust like no one else on this earth, would be unable to tell me from my doppelgänger? If it wasn't for you, it would have gone ahead. He would have been intimate with her and still he wouldn't have been able to see that she wasn't me." Olivia swiped her nose with the back of her hand, her eyes were shining brightly. It was obvious she was having a hard time controlling her emotions.

"Mom... You cannot punish him or yourself for that. It would be neither your, nor his, fault." Etta sighed.

Filled with nervous tension Olivia paced away from Etta and leaned back against one of her cabinets, her hand running through her hair then covering her mouth. It broke Etta's heart seeing her mother battling her emotions – a feat that was obviously requiring a tremendous effort - to not have a total breakdown in front of her.

Etta sighed once more feeling terrible for being the one to have brought all of this out into the open, where it once again had the power to drive a wedge between her mother and father. She had come to this point in the timeline to spare her mother from the pain that all this had originally inflicted upon her, after she had returned from the Other Side. Now it seemed that she had been the one to cause it by relating the news of Henry's existence.

She could at least take comfort in the knowledge that here, he would not come to be.

Still she felt she had to do something. She could not let this deteriorate to a degree when it got between her parents, not again. Not when this time, it had been caused by her not keeping her mouth shut.

Then again, perhaps she should tell Olivia something more about the events in the original timeline. "There are a lot of things I know that would have happened if I hadn't interfered in this timeline. Some good, others bad." Etta kept her stare steady on her mother. Olivia remained quiet, her eyes shining, staring at something beyond the small window of the kitchen.

"I told you that dad would be erased from the timeline once it had been reset. This would come as a result of him creating the bridge which would heal both worlds. What I didn't tell you was that hadn't been his original choice. The future I come from is a result of a second split. If things had continued as they were initially intended, the consequences of the universal variation that Peter affected, would have led to events that would later reveal it was a catastrophic mistake. My future is different from that which would have originally occurred."

That got Olivia's attention, her eyes shifted in Etta's direction "What do you mean by that?"

Etta took a moment to gather her thoughts before she continued, "Donald explained to me that all of you, in both universes, always believed that only one universe could possibly survive the war. So dad acted according to that notion. Donald called this version of the future the 'Averted Timeline', the one which resulted from that original choice."

"You're saying that Peter..." Olivia's brow furrowed deeply, her expression showed surprise bordering on complete shock at Etta's revelation.

She nodded confirming the unvoiced assumption as correct. "He originally chose to destroy the Universe in which he was born, to save this one. Because this was where he felt at home. Because this..." Etta emphasised her words by pointing to the floor as she continued, "was were _you_ were."

"But how is that possible? If universal destruction had been executed, then how did Peter manage to undo it in order to create the bridge?" Olivia asked, her patience evidently becoming strained as her confusion grew. "'Done bun can't be undone,'" she muttered, seemingly to herself. "What you are saying doesn't make any sense." She waved her hands, her gestures growing wilder reflecting her agitation and shook her head.

"In that timeline; which was a continuation of this one, fifteen years after the destruction of the Alternate Universe, Walter would find a way to send the machine back in time," Etta explained. "He would include a warning for Peter, telling him that both universes were so closely linked that neither could survive the destruction of the other.

"This world was by then sick, it was dying a slow and painful death, being torn apart faster than anyone could have anticipated, or had the power to do anything about. But the right question would be, _why_ did Peter agree to do it? What prompted him to put in motion a plan that would change their past and ultimately could result in a different future from the one they were living in?"

"What do you mean?" Olivia questioned Etta, her stare fixed on her daughter.

"In the 'Averted Timeline', Walternate managed to crossover before his Universe collapsed, he came here with the intention of seeking help to save his Universe. But it was too late, there was nothing anyone could do. He was trapped here with the knowledge of what had happened and over time, he became consumed with thoughts of revenge against Peter. He bided his time, but eventually he got it, he destroyed dad's world, not by destroying this universe - which was already doomed - but by killing his wife." Etta noticed how Olivia flinched for a microsecond at the word 'wife'.

She walked slowly towards her mother. "Walternate took from dad what he most loved. He took _you_." Etta grabbed Olivia's hand, gently squeezing it. "And he did it just to get back at Peter."

Etta paused, letting her words sink in. She gave her mother a few seconds to process what she had just revealed, then she proceeded, "A few days after your death, Walter proposed his plan to Peter; that they send the machine's components back in time, that they could include with it a warning for Peter. They would use a wormhole that had formed in Central Park. That's what they did, even knowing that the consequences could be very serious for everyone involved. They were about to change the past. It may be that they could stop the destruction of both Universes, but they knew there could and likely would, have unforeseeable consequences, but Peter did it anyway, there really wasn't any other choice.

"So when dad stepped into the machine his consciousness was projected forward fifteen years, to the same week in which Walternate killed you, therefore he came to know what would happen if he destroyed the Alternate Universe. He had the chance to change the future, and he chose to build the Bridge with the hope of healing both Universes. But above all else, he chose to create a different future from the one in which you would die.

"As a consequence, he got himself erased from the new timeline. No one remembered that he had ever existed, or knew what he had done. Not even you."

Etta paused once more, observing the storm of emotions raging within Olivia, as was evident on her face. Still she remained quiet, averting her eyes from Etta. She gave her mother a few more seconds before continuing. "So you see, whatever happened or would have happened, between dad and _her_ if I hadn't come along - and as painful as it would be after you had made it back from the Other Side - in the end it would mean nothing. Because you mean so much to each other."

Etta sighted, then pressed on, there was still more her mother should learn "I also know this from personal experience, it's not only because of what Donald told me about the 'Averted Timeline'.

"When I first intercepted dad back in Noyo County the only reason I convinced him not to cross over, but instead, come back with me to Boston, was by telling him what would happen to you after you went after him. I saw it in his eyes mom, the idea that his actions would lead to something so horrible happening to you... it made him trust in a complete stranger that claimed to be his daughter from the future. How crazy is that?" Etta chuckled to herself, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, she was having a hard time controlling her own emotions. "But still, he chose to come back with me, because of you mom." Etta gave another squeeze to Olivia's hand. "Every single time, he always chose you. When I intercepted him; when _you_ went to Other Side, he also chose to leave his Universe behind and come back with _you_. When he stepped in the Machine he chose a future where you would be there.

"And... perhaps I shouldn't be saying this..." Etta squeezed her mother's hand once more, a silent request for her attention, to which Olivia complied by shifting her gaze towards Etta. "Dad loves and values you more than his own life, he would never, ever do anything on purpose to hurt you."

Olivia gave a single nod and a sad smile forced its way onto her face. She put her arms around Etta and kissed her forehead. "Thank you," Olivia whispered into Etta's hair.  
She returned her mother's embrace, hoping she had got through to her. It filled Etta with an overwhelming sense of happiness that her mother was seeking comfort in her arms.

The moment was broken by the sound of Olivia's phone. They broke apart smiling at each other with glassy eyes.

"Don't worry Etta, I won't say anything to Peter," Olivia said before answering the phone.

She grabbed her cell, her demeanour immediately changing, her agent persona taking over. "Dunham" she answered call.

Olivia's brow furrowed a little as she listened to whomever was on the other side of the line. "Yes, sir. We'll be there right away."

"Broyles?" Etta asked as Olivia disconnected the phone.

"Yeah, there was a home invasion last night in Milton. I have to call Peter to get him to meet me there with Walter. I'll drop you out at the lab." Olivia said casting a glance at Etta as she strode towards the living room.

"Did you say Milton?" Etta asked, her brow furrowed.

Olivia stopped and turned to her daughter. "Yes, why?"

"36, Orchard Road, Milton?"

Olivia tilted her head slightly, obviously surprised and instantly made suspicious by Etta's correct guess. "Exactly... Do you know something about this case?"

"Yeah I do." Etta clenched her jaw and ran a hand through her hair. "It was not supposed to happen this soon, or… or even at all. Damn it!" She paced the kitchen, her distress pouring out in waves, demanding that she move. Another attribute she realised she had in common with her mother.

"Hey, Etta calm down," Olivia voiced and was quickly by her side, grabbing her shoulders, steadying her. "Tell me what you know."

Etta looked at her mother. She took a deep breath, trying to relax a little. "I'll tell you mom, I promise. But first it's urgent that you call Agent Broyles immediately, tell him to make sure there's a secure perimeter around the house, to about one hundred feet. No one should go inside. Many lives may depend on it.

"I have to go with you, I'm the only one that can go in there safely and disarm the box; that is, if it's still there."

* * *

**A/N And here it is another long chapter. Hope everyone enjoys it. Thanks to all the reviews in the last chapter, I really wasn't expecting it.  
Thanks also to Ruben, since you don't have an account I'll answer you here one more time.  
I appreciate immensely your feedback. I not going to promise writing anything erotic and I hope I don't disappoint you because of that.  
I've never done it and I'm not going to raise the rating of this story to M. But I promise you I'll try to add some Polivia scenes, I had that in mind since the beginning.  
I hope you like the Olivia/Etta scene in this chapter. Also thanks for your suggestion. I already have planned what will happen to Liv, hope you like it ;)  
As a side note, I prefer calling her Liv and not Fauxlivia. I like her, even if in the first part of season 3 the writers were obviously trying to make us hate her.  
She is a good person and this is my story, so I get to change what the writers of the show did (bare in mind that I admire them immensely for giving us such a great show).  
Nevertheless, my Liv is more like what we saw in the second half of season 3 and in season 4.  
Finally and like always, major credits go to Crys for her awesome editing of yet another chapter. Her work in this story has been invaluable and don't get tired of mentioning it.  
You rock mate!**


	25. A Tale of a Future Past

**Chapter 25 – A Tale of a Future Past.**

"Are you sure about this?" Philip Broyles asked keeping the intensity of his focus firmly on his lead Agent.

"Yes sir, I trust her." Olivia nodded once. She glanced over towards Etta, then back at Broyles. "We should let her take point on this," she added.

Broyles looked over to the younger Bishop, whose identity had been confirmed, according to Olivia, by the results of the DNA test that Walter had conducted. Although he had yet to see the results for himself, he had no issue with taking Olivia's word, his agent had never given him reason not to. Her integrity beyond reproach, her honesty an integral part of who she was. Nor did he worry about allowing Dr. Bishop to accurately and honestly carry out the test. The man may have many personal failings, but his dedication to science had always been of the highest level.

Still he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with, if not sceptical of the idea of a harbinger from a dark future and would do until he saw to the results for himself. Most likely his concerns would only grow after the moment of that confirmation, once confronted with proof undeniable that she was precisely who she said she was.

The girl had stayed by Olivia's SUV talking with Peter. The trunk was open and she perched on its gate, appearing focused but relaxed while she worked on some kind of device. She had Peter's undivided attention on whatever it was she was doing.

The case had urgently dragged them out to Milton on the outskirts of Boston. The younger Bishop allegedly had knowledge about the case. She believed there would be a box inside the house that, once opened, would emit an ultrasonic soundwave capable of killing anyone unfortunate enough to be within a one hundred foot radius of its location. She also claimed that she could defuse the box.

He found himself wrestling with the prospect of taking such a leap of faith, to trust in the young woman, even though she had the confidence of his team. It wasn't every day that he found himself in a position whereby he had to trust the lives of everyone under his command and the public at large, to someone whom had appeared out of nowhere claiming to be a visitor from the future. It was a leap that Broyles was uneasy about taking.

However, over the course of the past two years, the inexplicable and extraordinary had become the new normal in their lives. Besides, there was the significant factor of the trust Broyles had in Olivia Dunham's instincts. Even if it involved giving the lead of the latest crime scene to someone who claimed to be a time traveller.

"Very well, carry on," Broyles said. His usual undisturbed façade hiding his lingering concerns about Etta.

"Thank you Sir." Olivia turned on her heal as soon as she received his consent and strode towards Etta and Peter.

Broyles kept an inquisitive eye on the trio. He had to admit, Etta had striking resemblances both to Peter and Olivia. Not only evident by physical comparison, but also in her body language and mannerisms. From the few interactions with her, Broyles had picked up small quirks and gestures that reminded him of Olivia and a few snarky remarks that Etta had made could just as well come from Peter.

The DNA test only confirmed what- as impossible as it may be - seemed to be obvious. Henrietta Bishop was the daughter of Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop.

He shook his head, wondering if his life would ever return to normal.

* * *

"Okay we have authorisation for a 'go'," Olivia said as she joined Peter and Etta.

They were both entranced by the device Etta was handling, like a couple of children who'd received a new toy on Christmas morning.

Etta raised her head. "I'm almost done," she apprised with a smile for her mother.

Peter cast a glance at Walter. The elder Bishop was pacing nervously over by their station wagon, tracking and re-tracking a short path from one side to the other. "We better get on with this quickly, or Walter is going to wear a trench in the ground. It was not easy making him wait for you guys after he learned that the people inside the house had their brains turned to mush by an ultrasonic sound wave. He even refused the chance to take a look at this fabulous bit of gadgetry from the future that Etta brought with her."

Etta chuckled and turned her head to briefly watch her grandfather.

"You guys go ahead, I'll try to calm Walter," Olivia offered, already feeling at a loose end. Before she turned away, she stretched over to lay a reassuring hand on Peter's upper arm, offering silent support. She allowed the contact to linger for just a moment before she let her hand fall away. Etta got the same gentle treatment before she made off towards the old scientist.

Etta turned her attention back to the device. It was a rectangular box, about seven inches long, five inches wide and with a height of about one inch in high gloss black. According to Etta, it was an ear plug calibrator. It would allow them to program a special kind of ear plug that would filter or translate sound frequencies, which therefore would block the damaging ultrasonic sound waves emitted by the box. Using them they could go inside the house and defuse it safely without suffering its lethal effects. The ear buds would also ensure that they could hear each other while working. Etta further explained that it was also possible to calibrate the earplugs to detect sounds that normally weren't ordinarily audible to the human ear, making sounds like dog whistles or the ultrasonic sounds made by bats accessible by converting them into a perceptible range.

For someone who loved to tinker with electronic gadgets, as Peter did, such a device was something that seemed to come straight out of a dream. He was dying to get his hands on the strange contraption. But he had been even more amazed when he saw the little box come to life at Etta's first touch.

Before Etta had activated the device, it appeared to be a solid common box with no buttons, no display and no slots. Its highly polished black surface flawless. But as soon as Etta had touched the larger surface with her finger, everything changed.

Out of nowhere, amber letters appeared, warmly illuminating within the surface, contrasting sharply with its deep black lacquered surface. They formed a menu with several choices for the user. The thing was, there was no conventional display.

Etta explained that the material which the box was made of had the capability to change its structure at a molecular level. Each individual molecule making up the box could alter its structure and therefore its hue independent of the others, allowing the box's surface to act as a display.

It was truly remarkable.

She brought two pairs of earplugs into contact with each end of the box, one set on the right and the other on the left. As soon as each earplug contacted the surface, the solid box adjusted itself to receive them. The seemingly solid item suddenly appeared to partially liquefy, like it was made of viscous oil. While the main body of the box retained its integrity, indentations formed out of nowhere and the earplugs immediately sank seamlessly into the device, leaving only half of each bud visible.

Peter wondered what other amazing gadgets Etta might have brought with her from the future in her Sport Billy bag.

That had been one of his childhood TV highlights; Sport Billy on his adventures, with a bag containing a gadget for all occasions. It had fascinated him. Seeing this fantastical future technology brought those childhood memories flooding back and with it came the same sense of childlike wonderment, fizzing through him once again.

The display rapidly cycled through changing information, until the words 'Programming Successfully Completed' appeared in it. "Okay, it's done. These are for you," Etta said as she removed the first pair of the ear plugs from their dock. They came away easily, the black box once again appearing to pool like thick fluid around them. She handed them to Peter, who instinctively looked them over, checking for any clinging residue, but there was nothing, not even a trace.

Etta took the second pair and placed them in her ears carefully ensuring a snug fit. She waited until Peter did the same. "Can you hear me?" she asked after Peter finished adjusting the earplugs.

"Loud and clear." He gave her a thumbs up. "This is really amazing Etta."

She chuckled. "Yeah even for me. Donald gave me this, I have no idea where he got it from."

Peter frowned. "So I'm putting my life in the hands of an ex-Observer from the future." He adjusted one of the earplugs once more, still a little worried that they might fail. "Are you sure these things will work?"

Etta raised an eyebrow. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Her smirk made Peter shake his head in amusement, it was like looking at the mirror. "If my brains turn to mush, you're grounded for life missy." He gave Etta a stern look.

The younger Bishop chuckled. "That would be the least of my worries if these babies fail us." She tapped one of her earplugs. "But I'm positive they won't. I trust Donald with my life."

Peter nodded. "Okay then, let's see if the box is still there." He grabbed his kit of electronic tools they would need to defuse the box.

"We're going inside," Peter called out to Olivia, standing just a few feet away with Walter.

She nodded and mouthed, 'Be careful' to them over the crowd of FBI agents and forensic personnel milling around, all waiting to enter the house once it had been declared safe.

Peter and Olivia's eyes remained locked for a few seconds and he gave a respectful nod. Even from this distance he could clearly read her body language, the stiffness of her posture along with arms folded defensively across her chest, currently displayed her frustration for having to wait by the side-lines. But there was also something else in the way she looked at him. She was worried. He gave her the best reassuring smile he could muster _'I'll be okay, don't worry'_.

Olivia returned the gesture with her own somewhat strained smile, though Peter could see in the way it didn't quite reach her eyes, her silent plea. _'Just come back to me'_.

"Bishop." The voice of Agent Broyles made Peter turn his attention towards their boss. He noticed how Etta also responded to the use of their family name. It gave him a strange sense of pride, seeing that beautiful, brave young woman turn her head at the sound of his surname.

The senior agent astutely looked between them, before his eyes finally settled on Peter. He handed him a walkie-talkie. "Keep this on at all times. I want to know what's going on inside."

Peter accepted the walkie. "Will do, but I have to turn it off before we open the box and leave it off until we've defused it. Otherwise the ultrasonic sound waves would render it useless."

"Of course." Broyles gave a slight nod. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Peter said returning the nod.

Broyles turned his attention to the crowd of agents, assessing the area and the people at his disposal. "Agent Dunham, I want you and the SWAT team ready to go at my command! All other personnel, wait behind the one hundred foot cordon and await the all clear signal!" he shouted.

"That's our cue," Peter said to Etta and together they set of walking towards the house. To keep his mind off the potential for catastrophic brain liquefaction, he made the conscious decision to occupy his mind with conversation. "So, how was your first night with mom? I noticed how cheerful you both were when you arrived." Peter asked as they entered the house.

Etta looked at him sideways, a smile once again plastered on her face. "It was wonderful, better than I could ever have imagined. We talked a lot, about so many things."

"Good," Peter replied. He turned his focus back on his surroundings. "I think the basement is over there," He pointed to an open door not far from the kitchen entrance. On the approach he could see the start of the flight of stairs leading down.

Etta's quizzical look remained fixed on her father as they made their way towards the basement entrance. "Why are you asking?"

"Just curious," Peter said, giving a quick glance at Etta. To his own surprise, he found himself feeling slightly envious of the obvious bond that Etta and Olivia had already established. He was annoyed with himself, even slightly ashamed, for feeling that way. But what was bugging him the most was the fact that Etta had already picked up on his state of mind, she was her mother's daughter alright. But she was also _his_ daughter, her smile had turned into a teasing smirk, she would definitely not let him live that down.

"Are you jealous?" Etta prodded as she followed him downstairs to the basement.

Peter didn't even bother to turn around, he knew her smirk was still firmly in place, evident in the lilt of her words. Now his irritation was growing, again with himself for allowing Etta to succeed in getting a rise out of him. Peter turned around when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm glad you got to have fun and had some time to bond with your mother." He gave her his best, most charming smile.

But apparently Etta was immune to it. "Don't worry _dad_," she emphasized, the cocky smirk still plastered on her face. "There's no need to be jealous. I'll spend some time at your place too." Etta walked passed Peter, but turned back with her eyes positively glittering, even in the poor light of the confined basement. "...one of these days," she added airily, wiggling her right eyebrow.

Peter shook his head, he felt both irritated and amused by Etta's antics. His attention sobered as he turned to the gaping hole excavated through the concrete slab of the basement floor and into the dirt beneath, but Etta called his focus back to her. "Hey. You think I have any intention of missing out on the opportunity to spend time with you?" Her eyebrows arched up in such an Oliviaesque expression, it stopped him in his tracks. Etta answered her own question with a shake of her head. "Not a chance." With that she turned towards the pit, beating Peter to it.

She peered down in to the freshly dug cavity, her cheerful demeanour immediately changing, becoming entirely more serious. "Got bodies here," Etta reported. "Two of them, looks like the wave took them out." They were both slumped inside the hole, one considerably more crumpled than the other, as if he'd tumbled back into the hole from the edge, each showed signs of significant brain trauma, fluid having seeping from their ears and nose.

With no sign of the box in the hole, she checked the immediate area and soon found it. "It's still here." Etta pointed to a spot behind a mound of excavated earth, just beyond the lip of the hole, "The lid is down." Peter briefly glanced at the bodies of the men as he rounded the pit to join Etta. There was nothing he could do for them now, but he knew that given half a chance, Walter would be delighted to have new and unusual specimens to play with once they'd completed their work.

He crouched beside the box and splayed his hands over the lid. "Ready?" he asked looking up at Etta as he slid his fingers along the seam between the body and lid of the metallic case like object.

"Wait." Etta crouched next to him and gently grasped his shoulder. Peter glanced at her hand then at her face, a question forming in the crease between his eyebrows. "If the earplugs fail, I'll cross us over to the other side," she explained.

"Do you think you'll have time for that if they fail? Won't the ultrasonic sound wave affect us immediately?" Peter asked.

Etta shrugged. "I really don't know, but if I feel... weird, I'll cross us over. Worst case only; I don't even know if there is a basement on the Other Side."

Peter raised an eyebrow, "So equipment failure means it's either probably buried alive or definitely brains turned to mush." He snorted, "Just another day in Fringe Division."

He grabbed the walkie-talkie Broyles had given him. Thumbing the 'push to talk' button he reported their findings to the man outside, "We found the box, the lid is secure. We're opening it now. If I don't turn the walkie back on in 5 minutes, it's because we've join the 'liquefied brain matter club'."

"Roger. Let's hope everything goes according to plan," Broyles responded, his usually smooth voice distorted by the scratchy airwaves.

"I hope so too. Switching off now. Over and Out." Peter disconnected by rotating the volume control till the walkie clicked off then he set it aside. Peter shuffled a little, making sure he was in a comfortable position. "Let's do this then," he said.

Peter took a deep breath and slipped his fingers beneath the catch of the box. He released it gently and cracked the lid. Instantaneously the light bulb above them started to flicker. "How do you feel?" he asked Etta.

"Peachy." She grinned. "Told ya, Donald never fails me." Her smile clouded, tainted by sadness at the mentioning of her friend.

Peter saw the change and felt his heart pinch for her. But he didn't want to be exposed to the box while it was still live for any longer than was absolutely necessary. They'd have time to talk things over once they were sure it was safe. He opened his tool kit and retrieved a multimeter from inside.

"Clamp the probes here and here," Etta pointed to two contacts points inside the box where wires were connected. "They feed power to the mechanism that emits the sound wave."

Peter did as Etta requested, clamping the crocodile clips securely to each terminal. Immediately, the needle on the multimeter's analogue display came alive, jumping to the right from its original resting position on the left of the gage. It stopped at 10volts. Satisfied with their placement and the reading, Peter retrieved the wire cutting pliers from his kit.

"You have to cut this one first, then that one." Etta explained indicating the wires as she spoke. "They come directly from the power unit that feeds the whole mechanism. We should see the voltage drop to zero, then there'll be no more brain mushing capability." she explained.

Peter cut the wires and the needle on the multimeter's display dropped back down, all the way to the left, indicating that there was no longer current passing through the device. At the same time, the light bulb above them ceased its persistent flickering. "I think it's done," he said and raised his hand to his left ear, intent on taking his earplugs out.

Etta stopped him immediately "Wait, let me take my earplugs out first. I'm more resilient, if by any chance the ultrasonic sound wave is still on I think I'll be able to resist long enough to jam the plug back in."

Peter sighed, "Etta, there's no current flowing and the lamp stopped flickering." Before Etta could react he plucked the earplug from his right ear, he paused for a second, assessing his condition. "See? I'm fine. It's dead, there's no more danger."

"Dad!" Etta scolded and shot him a glare. "That was so reckless! You should have waited until I took mine out!"

"Well kiddo, now you know where a fraction of _your_ recklessness comes from." Peter removed the other earplug "The majority of it comes from your mother. She is, by far, worse than me." He retrieved the walkie-talkie. "I should report in before Olivia charges in here, because she will. She'll find a way, fancy future gadget or no fancy future gadget." Etta remained silent as she removed her own earplugs, but her eyes delivered a silent reprimand. Peter had to contain a smile at her disapproving look.

"And for the record, I'm not jealous of you spending time and bonding with Olivia, I'm actually happy for both of you. What I am is annoyed that _I_ haven't yet got to spend time with her. We haven't even been on a date yet and we already have a kid spoiling our fun," Peter feigned displeasure.

Before Etta had time for a comeback, Peter turned the walkie-talkie on. "Agent Broyles, it's safe to come inside, we've disarmed the box," he said with a smirk on his lips.

* * *

"Good Morning Sir," Brandon Fayette greeted, rising from his chair he saluted the Secretary.

"What have you got for me Dr. Fayette?" Walternate prompted, then motioned Brandon to retake his seat at his desk.

"I've been reviewing the surveillance footage from around the time the prisoner escaped. I've stumbled upon an interesting finding Sir."

"Very well." Walternate gave a slight nod for the man to continue then took the chair beside him.

The young scientist fiddled with his terminal until he brought up the footage he wanted the Secretary to see. "This is from the corridor where the holding cells are located. I'm going to show you the footage from the escape," Brandon explained.

He touched the terminal and the video started to play. Brandon watched the different reactions on the Secretary's face as the old man watched Etta appear out of nowhere in the middle of the corridor and rescue Olivia from right under their noses.

Brandon stopped the footage right after both women entered the elevator. He kept his eyes on the Secretary, eager to know if his boss had noticed the same thing he had.

"She can crossover by herself, we had already established that." Walternate's tone held hints of both annoyance and impatience.

"That's not it Mr. Secretary. Here, watch again." Brandon turned to the terminal and replayed the footage. He fast forwarded until Etta opened the door to Olivia's cell, and again when she punched the code on the elevator's keypad. Brandon's lips twitched forming a small smile as he noticed Walternate's face transform from a blank, somewhat bored expression to one of clear surprise. "She knew the codes," the Secretary said as the truth dawned upon him.

"Exactly." Brandon's smile got wider then, as he became more confident in revealing his excitement at the discovery. "She didn't use a device or require explosives to circumvent the security codes of the cell or the elevator. She just _knew_ them. Not to mention that she knew exactly where to crossover in order to gain access to the prisoner and then get back again."

Walternate kept staring at the frozen image of the young blonde entering the code into the elevator keypad. His frown and a deepening of the lines of his face were an indicator of how deep in thought he was.

"She could be working with someone from our side, or we may have an infiltrated agent in our midst, one of theirs, who helped her," Brandon elaborated. "But with all the security safeguards we have in place, the fact remains that those codes are known only to a handful of people. They are reset every twenty four hours, new ones are generated at random by a computer, which makes that only a very remote possibility."

"I agree." Walternate leant back in his chair, his eyes drifted from the terminal towards Brandon. "Since we infiltrated their side I took measures to prevent them from breaching our defences here. Our security protocols are very tight. But we shouldn't rule that hypothesis out just yet."

"Of course Sir." Brandon nodded. "Yet, since that is such a remote possibility, I continued a little further in my investigation." Brandon started typing on his terminal once more. "The identity of the girl is still unknown. We could find no information about her anywhere, as you know already. If she is from the Other Side - as seems to be the case - she doesn't even have a doppelgänger here, on our side."

Walternate nodded.

"So I started thinking. For her to access that kind of information without help from anyone, she must have somehow gained access to it by herself and she must have done it recently." Brandon took his eyes from his boss, directing his attention towards the terminal. He brought up a window showing a list of entries with names and timestamps for each one.

"First I checked the logs, to see who had accessed the security codes during the twenty four hours prior to the escape. Nothing stood out. Just access by the authorised security personnel rostered for duty that day, as we'd expect."

Brandon closed the window with the logs leaving the screen clear. He turned to the Secretary. "Then I ran facial recognition through the DoD surveillance system, again concentrating on those twenty four hours leading up to the escape. However, I didn't only check our facilities here on Liberty Island, I also included all agencies and departments which could provide access to the level of information she needed.

"This is what I found." Brandon touched the terminal, a single new window filled the screen, one with a frozen image on it. He struck a key and the video feed commenced playing immediately.

Once again Brandon kept his eyes on the Secretary, feeling a bit smug as he watched the older man's face turn into one of complete bewilderment. The security footage showed the girl entering Fringe Division's Headquarters in New York a few hours before the escape. He let the footage play out showing Etta strolling around Fringe Division in the company of, presumably, an Agent. They watched from the viewpoint of several cameras as the pair toured the facility, then the Agent showed the girl to what appeared to be a break room, before leaving her alone. Moments later, she was on the move again, covertly conducting a search of several rooms along the route she'd covered already. She entered two offices, but as the surveillance system didn't cover inside, it was impossible to see what she had done while she had been there.

The footage continued, following her exploits until she exited the premises, where she parted from the Agent with a kiss.

Brandon zoomed in on the unknown Agent. "Daniel Hollands, Fringe Division Agent. He appears to be acquainted with our mystery woman."

The Secretary got up from his chair and tapped his cuff device on his ear. "Colonel Broyles? We need to meet immediately," Walternate advised the head of Fringe Division, leaving no room refusal as he advanced at pace towards the exit of Brandon's lab. "No, I will come to Fringe Headquarters. There is someone on your team I urgently need to meet with. I'll give you the details when I arrive."

The Secretary stopped at the door and turned to Brandon, who had yet to take his eyes from him. "You've done a remarkable job Dr. Fayette. Congratulations. You would have made an outstanding investigative Agent."

Brandon's ego became even more inflated after such a compliment, especially coming from the Secretary. But before he could say anything to his boss, Walternate swept through the doorway leaving him alone in the lab.

* * *

"So you're telling me that this is the doing of Walternate's agents?" Broyles asked Etta.

They were at the lab. The box lay on a workbench around which everyone had gathered; with the exception of Walter, who was seated alone at the adjacent bench, munching a red vine and brooding over the fact that Broyles had refused authorization, therefore preventing him from preforming the autopsies on the bodies found at the crime scene. The cause of death was no longer of interest for Fringe Division, since Etta's intervention had resolved and clarified the case to Agent Broyles' satisfaction. Hence, the bodies had been released to the city coroner, despite the protests of a very frustrated and disgruntled Walter Bishop.

"Yes, their goal was - and probably still remains - to lead Fringe Division towards the locations of all buried pieces of the machine." Etta answered.

"But why would they need us to locate the machine?" The Senior Agent queried.

"Because Walternate still needs a part of the wave sync machine, one that is missing on the Other Side. Or so he thinks." Etta paused for a few seconds. She looked at Astrid instinctively, as she recalled the story the future version of the Junior Agent - along with Donald - had revealed to her about the events that took place in the original timeline. "If I hadn't come along, my mother's doppelgänger would have orchestrated two incidents, both of which would have been investigated by Fringe Division." Etta pointed to the contraption they had retrieved from the house in Milton. "This Box being the first. Then a few weeks later she'd lead you to the discovery of the Number Stations broadcast. Those incidents would lead you to seek the locations of the buried pieces of the machine on this side. The other Olivia's mission was to retrieve a missing part, the one Walternate needs."

"I see," Broyles said. "We do the hard work, finding and digging up the machine parts and she walks away with what they need." The Senior Agent sighed. He cast a glance at Olivia. If it hadn't been for Etta, they would have been fooled by the infiltrated agent, while his own Agent would have been dragged through hell while trapped on the other side. The fact that her sheer tenacity and refusal to be defeated meant she would have managed to return eventually, was of no comfort to him what so ever. Not with the knowledge of what the consequences of that event would be, once unravelled in its entirety. He pushed those thoughts aside and returned his attention to Etta. "So this means that they stood by the plan, even though the cover of the other Olivia was blown."

"It makes sense, Sir." Olivia waved her right hand, then crossed her arms in front of her chest. "They will still be hoping to salvage the part they're missing."

"What about those Number Stations you mentioned?" Peter asked turning to Etta.

"Like I said, it originally happened a few weeks after the Box incident," Etta explained. "They placed two devices on two radio towers, electromagnetic cubes that transmitted a pulse. That pulse was hidden within the broadcasts of these so called 'Number Stations', it would cause amnesia in the people listening."

"What are these Number Stations?" Olivia asked, looking to her daughter for enlightenment, a slight crease formed between her eyebrows.

"According to Donald they've been known to exist for almost as long as we've had the technology to broadcast and detect radio transmissions." Etta informed them, then elaborated further. "There's an aura of mystery behind them, but the explanation almost certainly quite simple. They are used either by criminal organizations, perhaps the spy agencies of any number of countries, or even just by amateur groups to transmit coded messages to their members. Some may be a complete hoax and have no significance at all, yet they have a loyal following among enthusiasts trying to decode and decipher their meaning.

"Walternate devised a way to take advantage of these broadcasts and their listeners. His operatives posted to this side started their own Number Station that broadcasts throughout New England and the tri-state area. The messages they relayed were in fact the coordinates mapping the locations of the buried components. It was you Astrid, who figured that one out." Etta noted with a glance to the Junior Agent.

"I did?" Astrid asked with a mixed look of surprise and self-pride.

"Hu-hu." Etta nodded and smiled.

"So, let me get this straight." Peter crossed his arms in front of his chest, his posture now mimicking Olivia's, he moved a bit closer to the workbench. "They inserted a pulse in that specific broadcast, one which would instigate amnesia in the listeners, because they knew that a case like that could only be investigated by us."

"Precisely. But the effects were further reaching than just those people effected by amnesia. The transmission of the pulse also affected the crew of a plain, that end up crashing because the pilot become an amnesiac. Six people died in that plain crash." Etta explained.

"They did all that, killed all those people, just to get our attention?" Olivia's jaw clenched, she looked like she might throw up or explode with rage, or execute a combination of the two at any second. Etta nodded in grim response.

Olivia sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose seemingly giving herself a moment to decompress. "_She_ must still be here," she concluded after a few seconds of contemplation. "They're sticking to the plan, so they must be waiting, hoping, _expecting_ that we'll locate the machine parts for them. They're going to need to gain access to wherever we store them. She is perfect for that, she can impersonate me."

"I agree." Broyles nodded at his lead Agent. "We should store the pieces in a secret location known only by us."

"We could do that, but it would cause another problem. If my mother..." Etta paused, then corrected herself for the sake of retaining her sense of professionalism in the presence Broyles. "If Agent Dunham is correct and _she_ is still here, then she has to take the missing piece back with her. It's essential that Walternate assembles the Machine on the Other Side. In order to form the Bridge, there have to be two machines, one stationed in each universe." Etta put her hands side by side in front of her, parallel to each other, to illustrate what she had explained.

"So we just let her run free and wait for her to steal what she needs?" Astrid stared at Etta, her expression was one of mild shock. "And what happens if they go ahead with the Number Stations incident?" She turned her attention first to her boss, then to Olivia. "Do we let all those people die just so she gets what she wants?"

"No. We are not going to let that happen." Olivia shook her head, the determination in her words matched the resolve in her expression.

"There's one thing that I don't get." Peter rested his hand on the box and looked at Etta. "If she takes that piece with her, we will be lacking a component to assemble our own machine."

"That's not a problem," Etta insisted with a shake of her head. "Massive Dynamic can reverse engineer the missing piece, that's how you guys did it... or would have done it."

"Okay," Peter accepted with a slight nod. "But you also said that Walternate only 'thought' that their piece, the one originating on his side, was missing." he prompted, apparently he'd caught the crumb that she'd dropped that would lead to the truth.

"Exactly." Etta nodded back.

"So... the piece is there but they just can't find it?" Peter squinted his eyes while still looking at his daughter.

"Yes..." Etta confirmed her father's assumption. "The pieces are buried in exactly the same locations in each Universe. On their side the missing component was actually found in the first half of the 20th century, by a crew digging a well in Ethiopia. No one could make head nor tale of what it was at the time and it was lost. When Walternate started to dig up the parts of the machine, they were unable to find that specific piece and despite all their subsequent searching, they came up empty."

"So he has to take the one from here." Peter assessed.

"Correct." Etta nodded once more.

"And Donald had no idea where that piece might currently be located on the Other Side?" Peter inquired.

"If he knew, he didn't tell me." Etta shrugged, almost in apology.

Peter sighed. "So we have no choice but to let them take ours, because otherwise there won't be a Bridge"

"But, were do all of these machine parts come from?" Astrid asked sounding exasperated, then continued with a string of questioning. "How did they get there? How did they even exist in the early 20th century? Why were they distributed and buried in those different locations around the globe in both universes?"

"That's a long story," Etta sighed. "Disassembling the Wave Sync machine and disbursal of its constituent parts happened in a future different from the one I come from." she glanced at her mother. The conversation they had shared that same morning coming to her mind.

"Etta's future is not... the original one. It's one which branched off from the timeline that was created after the reset; a second variation, so to speak." Olivia explained.

Peter's stare was once more locked onto Etta. "I was convinced that from your point of view, this timeline had ceased to exist the moment I stepped out of the machine and formed the Bridge. So how can there be another version of the future? An 'original' one at that?"

The younger Bishop pursed her lips, the uncertainty of what she should reveal was evident in her demeanour. She exchanged looks with Olivia. Her mother gave her a single nod, encouraging her to proceed. "Because forming the bridge wasn't your original choice."

"What do you mean?" Peter's brow furrowed deeply in his confusion.

"If I hadn't intervened, you would have all been led to believe that only one Universe could survive the war," Etta explained. "You would believe that the wave sync machine was a weapon of mass destruction. So when you stepped into it, you did what you thought you must; you destroyed the other Universe. You did it because you thought there was no other option, that it was the only way to protect this Universe and the people you loved."

Peter gave a nervous chuckle. "But that doesn't make any sense Etta. You've been saying that I would build a bridge to heal both Universes; how could I possibly do that if I'd already destroyed the other Universe?"

"Because fifteen years after you made your original choice, Walter found a way to send the machine back in time. By then you were already very much aware that both Universes were dependent on each other and that they could not survive without the other intact. This Universe was collapsing at an alarming rate, so Walter devised a plan to send the machine back in time and with it he would include a warning of sorts, in the hope that it would allow you to make a different choice.

"Because of the foresight that event afforded, you managed to alter the past and change the future, ultimately creating the future where I come from." Etta shrugged. "Much like what I'm doing now, I guess."

Peter was visibly sickened by Etta's revelation. "I would have killed all those people?"

"Peter," Olivia said softly, she grasped his hand, her touch seeming to ground him. His wild eyed look calmed and his breathing rate slowed and steadied. "If Etta hadn't come along, we would have believed there was no other choice, just as she said. It was what we were already starting to believe. It wouldn't have been your fault."

"Son," Peter turned around at the sound of Walter's voice. The elder Bishop had left his workbench and walked towards Peter. "If there is someone to blame for all of this, it's me. I was the one that broke the fabric of reality. I am the one solely responsible for each and every consequence that hence sprung forth, from that single event which I alone instigated." The old scientist tentatively reached for Peter's face. "Don't blame yourself for something that ultimately is my responsibility. Especially not when it is something that has yet to happen." Walter took his eyes from Peter and glanced at Etta with a wistful smile. "And I'm certain now that it never will."

Etta smiled at her grandfather, while Peter grabbed his father's hand and took it from his face, giving it a gentle squeeze. He swallowed heavily and smiled at the old man. "Thank you Walter."

"Ms. Bishop, you said the Number Stations incident took place a few weeks after the Box incident?" Broyles asked Etta, in an obvious attempt to clear the tension and also focus his team back on the urgent matters at hand.

"Yes." Etta confirmed.

"You also told me when we were at home that the box incident wasn't supposed to happen yet, that it should have occurred a few days from now." Olivia said recalling their conversation from a few hours before.

"Yeah, originally it did. I guess... my intervention and the early discovery of the other Olivia's infiltration has caused a change to the original timeframe." Etta shrugged.

"So it's feasible they will make their move by prompting the Number Station incident sooner." Broyles stated.

Olivia's gaze travelled from her boss to her daughter. "Etta, what else do you know? We need all the information you have on these stations."

"Of course. Give me a sec." Etta hustled towards Olivia's office and was back a few seconds later with a small circular device, much like a hockey puck, balanced on her palm. She placed it on the workbench. At her touch, a two dimensional holographic display projected above the device.

Peter eyes widened in surprise at the holographic display and he uttered, "Wow."

"This is so cool," Astrid enthused, then her mouth fell agape in wonder.

"Indeed. She has the most wondrous toys." Walter winked at his granddaughter.

Etta chuckled and started manipulating the holographic screen with her fingers, browsing through the data stored on the device. "Donald compiled all the information he had about the cases you guys investigated during this period. Let's see what we have about the Number Stations," she murmured while she searched. "Here it is. Joseph Feller of 989 Nelson Street, Medford. He was the shapeshifter responsible for the incidents. Still, there's always the chance things might have changed and that someone else is involved now."

The picture of a man appeared on the holographic screen. He had dark, short hair and a fairly common oval of a face that didn't stand out, though he was fairly handsome.

But something caught Olivia's attention. "Is it my imagination or are his eyes different colours?"

Walter squinted his eyes looking more closely at the image. "Oh my. _Heterochromia iridum_!" He waved his finger enthusiastically. "It's a rare condition mostly of genetic or congenital origin. Historically it is associated with inbreeding, especially between siblings or parents and their offspring.

"David Bowie is one of the most famous persons with such a condition, although in his case, it was caused by an accident, rather than of genetic origin." Walter walked around the workbench but stopped between Broyles and Astrid, pushing his way between them. He grabbed both their shoulders and leaned between them. "I once met this girl during my college years," Walter began with a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. "She also had different iris colours, blue as the sky in one eye and emerald green in the other. She was quite beautiful. Shame that she didn't react so well when I asked if her parents where siblings during our post coital conversation."

"I really can't see why she couldn't grasp how significant your question was." Etta said with a deadpan face. "It clearly shows that it came from someone with a keen sense of attentiveness and a shrewd mind. Women love intelligent men. I really can't understand why she would react so badly. A question like that… it's every woman's dream, especially after sex," she quipped, feigning astoundment.

"Neither did I, my child!" Walter said sounding completely staggered. He let go of both FBI Agents and waved his finger in Etta's direction, having obviously missed the sarcasm in his granddaughter's words, he continued as he rounded the workbench. "It was scientific curiosity pure and simple! How could she not see that!?"

"Stupid woman, you were obviously much better off without her Walter." Peter interjected as he grabbed his father, preventing the discussion from progressing further. "Now, let's focus on the matters at hand, okay Walter?"

"Thank you Peter," Broyles nodded towards the younger Bishop looking relieved. He turned his attention back to Etta who quickly wiped the smile from her face. "Ms. Bishop, I presume that this Joseph Feller is another of _their_ Olivia's contacts here?"

"Yes, Agent Broyles," Etta confirmed. "If everything had happened as it did originally in this timeline, she would have killed him in a last ditch attempt to protect her identity and her mission."

"I see," Broyles said. His usual impassive mask dropped for a micro second, unable to hide his surprise and discomfort after hearing Etta's explanation.

"So he may know where _she_ is now." Olivia said with an inquiring look to her daughter.

"I guess it's a possibility," Etta assessed with a raised eyebrow. "What are you thinking?"

Olivia looked around the workbench between each member of her group. "Perhaps instead of waiting and allowing her to steal the missing piece, maybe we should give it to her…" She allowed a pregnant pause before she continued her thought, "_In person_"

* * *

**A/N Thanks to everyone for all the kind reviews, I really wasn't expecting the last chapter to have so many.  
Thanks also to everyone else that is still fallowing or just reading this story.  
It's all of you guys and girls that give me the motivation to continue.  
Crys did another tremendous job on this one, so she deserves major kudos once more.  
Thanks mate! And here's to an exciting 2016/17 season, may LFC take back what it's been eluding your boys for so many years.  
The Premier League title! **


	26. Mysterious Girl

**Chapter 26 – Mysterious Girl**

Daniel Hollands stepped inside his boss' office. Saying that he was surprised when he saw whom it was that had summoned him - besides Colonel Broyles - was putting it mildly.  
None other than the Secretary of Defence, Walter Bishop dominated the office, although currently all he was doing was standing to the side of the Colonel's desk.

Daniel had seen him a couple of times, always from afar. His imposing figure transmitted an aura of authority, bordering on arrogance. Being in his presence gave Daniel an uncomfortable feeling; a tension in his muscles, accompanied by tightening of his stomach.

This wasn't the kind of person you would wish to find yourself crossing.

"You must be Agent Hollands." The Secretary extended his hand towards Daniel.

It took the Fringe Agent a few seconds to react, taken by surprise that Walternate knew who he was.

"That's correct Sir," he said accepting the man's hand.

"I'm Secretary of Defence Walter Bishop," he introduced himself, totally unnecessarily; there was no one working at Fringe Division who would not know whom he was, even if they'd never before met him personally.

"It's an honour Sir," Daniel said before releasing The Secretary's hand.

"Please sit down Agent Hollands." Colonel Broyles waved his hand, motioning him to sit in the chair in front of his desk. He had Daniel's personnel file displayed on the embedded terminal.

Feeling the tension building and uneasy with doing so, Daniel took his seat, eyes shifting between Broyles and the still standing Secretary.

He wondered what on Earth a powerful man such as Walter Bishop could possibly want from him.

"Mr. Hollands..." Walternate started circling the office until he came up behind Daniel. The Fringe Agent felt the Secretary's eyes on the back of his head.  
An unconformable feeling sat in the pit of his stomach.

"You've been with Fringe Division for what now? Five years?" The Secretary continued his graceful stroll around the office, until he once again arrived to stand next to Broyles' desk.

"It will be six years next November Sir."

"Very, good." Walternate gave a slight smile, then changed his line of questioning, "I see that you're from Lewiston, Idaho."

Feeling off balance by the shifting and seemingly inconsequential topics, Daniel hesitated before answering, "Err… actually I was born in Camden, Maine, but we moved to Lewiston when I was a child, my mother is from there. Things got tough in Camden after most of the area was ambered."

"Yes, I remember that incident," the Secretary offered with a nod, then added, "Quite unfortunate."

Daniel would almost have sworn that he saw a hint of emotion breaking through from behind Walternate's impassive mask; something between sadness and anger.

"Honestly I don't recall much of it Sir," Daniel elaborated "I was only five years old. But it's something that bothers my parents greatly to this day. They lost a lot of friends and relatives from my father's side of the family."

"We all have lost someone to these terrible tragedies that afflict our world." The Secretary said, then he paused for a few seconds.

Daniel noticed how his eyes settled on a picture standing on the Colonel's desk.

The young Fringe Agent followed his gaze and found in a simple, but well-crafted frame an image of Col. Broyles son.

Walternate shifted his eyes back to Daniel, whose attention snapped back to him when he began to speak. "Family is very important Mr. Hollands, I'm glad that you and your parents were fortunate enough to survive such a terrible ordeal."

"Thank you Sir," Daniel said. His mind was racing a thousand miles per hour, trying to figure out why the Secretary of Defence was suddenly so interested in his family history.  
To his knowledge, neither he, nor his parents, had ever crossed paths with the man.

"If I may ask, do you see them quite often?" Walternate asked.

Daniel was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable at the line of questioning, he cleared his throat nervously before asking, "Whom Sir?"

"Your parents," Walternate pressed on. "I assume they don't live in New York."

"No Sir. They still live in Lewiston. But I go there whenever I can. I actually came back from spending my leave visiting them a few days ago."

"Good, good. It's important to keep in touch with your loved ones. I'm sure your parents appreciate that."

"Yes Sir, they do." Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "And so do I."

"I'm sure you do." Walternate gave a slight smile, though Daniel felt sure there was something unpleasant, just barely concealed under it.

"They visit you too here in New York, or perhaps other family members?"

"Yes, they do. My uncles too."

"And cousins?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow and answered, "I don't have any cousins Sir."

The Secretary nodded. "So, this girl..." Walternate swept is hand above the surface of Broyles desk. "Is not a relative of yours?"

An image he recognised immediately, of a young blond girl, appeared on the embedded terminal.

Daniel was taken by surprise. "Melissa" he said, his voice low. He looked between Broyles and Walternate. "Has something happened to her?"

"Is that her name? Melissa?" Broyles queried when he finally spoke.

"Yes Sir, Melissa Givens, but she isn't my relative. She's... a friend"

Both Walternate and Broyles exchanged a look. Daniel was becoming more restless by the second.

"She was here a few days ago, visiting you," Broyles prompted.

"Yes Sir, she was in town and she gave me a call. She came to meet me and we were supposed to go out for drinks that night after my shift was over. But unfortunately her aunt got sick and she had to go back to Chicago that same night."

"She's from Chicago?" Walternate asked.

"Actually she's from Boston." Daniel noticed the slight flinch that affected the Secretary's face when he mentioned Melissa's home town. "But her parents died when she was a child, during the Boston outbreak and she moved to Chicago to live with her aunt."

Daniel found himself squirming in his seat once more, anxiety taking a hold of him. "Sir, may I ask why you're questioning me about Melissa? Is she in some kind of trouble?"

Walternate drifted a few steps towards the glass wall that separated Broyles' office from the Fringe Division's bullpen.

He stopped midway and turned around to face Daniel, who had twisted in his seat to follow the Secretary with his stare.

Walternate paused for a beat too long, then disclosed, "She may be the daughter of a long lost friend of mine." The pause and the delivery of the explanation troubled Daniel.

He knew this was not even close to the truth, even as the Secretary continued, embellishing the lie, "I've been looking for her for a long time. If she really is whom I think she is, her father was a very dear friend and I would love to meet her."

"I see," Daniel kept his eyes on the Secretary, feeling very much like a prey animal being stalked by a predator, though he tried to keep his expression neutral.

Despite the fact that he believed the whole story to be off, he didn't see that he had any choice but to play along.

"I would appreciate immensely if you could tell me more about her." The Secretary walked back towards Broyles' desk and leaned against it - a move which Daniel interpreted as an attempt at forced casualness, a posture which seemed completely alien to this man – just to Daniel's left. "You see, my friend was also from Boston, he too died during the outbreak along with his wife. His daughter was also thought to be lost, but a few years ago I received news that she may had survived."

"Of course Sir, that makes sense." Daniel gave his best attempt at a sympathetic smile.

He still wasn't buying it, but as he had no choice, he told Walternate what he knew about the girl. "I met her when I was on leave in Lewiston, she was passing through town on her way to Chicago. It was a chance encounter, I witnessed her being attacked by two lowlifes..." Daniel sighed thinking about what those men could have done to her. "They had intended to rape her, but they didn't know who they were dealing with. Even though she was outnumbered, and smaller than her attackers, they didn't stand a chance against her. She immobilized both men single handed, before I could cross the street to intervene."

"That is quite impressive." Walternate stated, again flashing just a glimpse of that oddly wolfish grin.

"You have no idea Sir. I was on my way to my uncle's dinner when I spotted the two men harassing her, one of them armed with a gun. I shouted from across the street. It wasn't much, but it was enough to create a distraction, one that she took full advantage of. She grabbed the gun from the first goon and while it was still in his hand she shot the other one. Then she wrestled with the guy with the gun, she decked him within seconds, dislocating his shoulder in the process. By the time I got to her, she had the two men restrained and she was pointing the gun at me."

"Again... most impressive," the Secretary muttered, his calculating eyes fixed on the young Fringe Agent.

"Based on what you say, I assume she belongs to a law enforcement agency, or has some military training." Broyles assessed.

"Not that I know of, Sir. When I asked her where she had learned to fight like that, she told me she had been raised in a tough neighbourhood." Daniel shrugged.

"So you only met this woman a few weeks ago?" Broyles elicited.

"To be more precise, only last week. But it was quite an introduction." Daniel gave a tense smile.

"Indeed it was," Walternate said with a raised an eyebrow.

"What more can you tell us about her?"

"Not much more Sir. After the attack I offered to help her with the local Police, which she was grateful because she was in a hurry to get to Chicago. I persuaded her to join me for something to eat at my uncle's dinner and after that, she left. Then she showed up here a few days ago, like I told you before."

"And she went back to Chicago that same night she met with you here?" Broyles inquired.

"Yes, Sir. Melissa received a call about her aunt being admitted to hospital. She was really upset about it." Daniel explained.

"And you haven't talked with her since then?" Walternate inquired.

"No Sir."

"Very good." Walternate nodded "May I ask you a favour?" The Secretary stood next to Daniel's chair.

The Fringe Agent straightened in his seat. "Of course Sir."

"If Melissa happens to contact you again, would you give me a call?" The Secretary handed Daniel his business card.

"Yes Sir," Daniel took the card and gave it a quick glance before putting it in his jacket pocket.

"But please, don't tell her anything. If she really is who I think she is, I would very much like to surprise her." The Secretary's lips twitched slightly at the corners.  
It disturbed Daniel, as he couldn't tell exactly if it was a smile or a sneer.

"Of course Sir," Daniel replied and did what he could to return the smile.

"Thank you for your time Agent Hollands. That will be all." Colonel Broyles dismissed the young agent.

Daniel got up "Thank you Sirs, excuse me." He nodded towards both Broyles and the Secretary.

Then with a great sense of relief, he swiftly left Broyles' office closing the door behind him. Daniel huffed and swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. What the hell had just happened? What did Melissa get herself into?

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, then walked back to his desk, his mind running at a thousand miles per hour. Something was going on and he intended to find out what it was. He sat down and swiped his hand on the surface of his terminal, bringing it to life.

From the menu he chose the 'Citizens Index' and selected the small magnifying glass indicating the search option at the right uppermost corner of the screen. A prompt appeared waiting for his input.

He reclined in his chair, wondering if what he was about to do would get him in trouble. Daniel spared a furtive look around. The bullpen was filled with agents, each engrossed in their own tasks. He snorted to himself, wondering why he was worried if someone was watching what he was doing, when everything they did there was logged and recorded.

He looked up and he could see through the glass wall of Colonel Broyles office that the Secretary was still there. Daniel pondered on whether or not he should go ahead with what he intended to do. It was obvious that his boss and the Secretary would learn about his actions sooner or later.

But the questioning he had been subjected to seemed almost surreal by now. What was the Secretary's interest in Melissa? What was his genuine motive for all his questions?

His curiosity got the better of him. He guessed that taking a peek wouldn't hurt. Besides he could always justify his actions by saying that he was trying to learn more about the girl, in order to help the Secretary.

With his mind set, he typed 'Melissa Givens' into the search field and hit 'send'.

* * *

"According to the computer, Agent Hollands was telling the truth Mr. Secretary." Broyles swiped his hand above the embedded terminal on his desk, closing the window with the program that had been analysing Daniel's reactions as he submitted his answers to the questions they had asked.

"Yes, that much seemed obvious." Walternate took a few steps towards the glass screen, and stood casting his gaze over the activity in the bullpen - the main work floor of Fringe Division - from his bird's-eye position.

"He was just an unfortunate mark, a convenient means for her to get what she needed." He turned around to face Broyles. "Still, we should keep tabs on him, there's always the possibility she may contact him again."

"Of course Sir." Broyles nodded. "I think it's obvious that 'Melissa Givens' is an alias," he added.

"Yes I believe so," Walternate reflected as he returned to the desk.

"Nevertheless we should seek to verify this. Look for activity and transactions under that name during the period falling between my return from the Other Side and the prisoner's escape. She must have travelled from Noyo County to New York during that time and according to our good Agent Hollands, she did it on our side. Clever girl, she knew that would be the last place we would think to look for her after she killed Newton on their side."

Broyles swiped his hand again above his desk. "She seems very resourceful and a tenacious, skilful fighter," he said while browsing through the Local Law Enforcement joint database.

In a few seconds he had located the Lewiston Police report documenting the attack on a young woman named Melissa Givens.

"The Lewiston Police Department corroborates Agent Hollands account about the attack on the girl. One of the men involved required surgery after being shot." Broyles paused and leaned a bit further, making sure he was reading correctly. "He lost his genitals," Broyles divulged, eyes widened with his disturbance.

The Secretary glanced at the report, his expression remained blank. "Yes it appears so. She is proving to be a truly remarkable adversary."

"And she seems to always be a step ahead of us." Broyles stared vacantly at the report, his brain trying to make sense of the odd puzzle that was the mysterious girl.

"First she intercepted your son when you were about to meet him on the Other Side. Then she infiltrates one of the most secure facilities in the United States with such an ease that the feat would put any top ranking CIA agent to shame." Broyles sighed, his eyes shifted to the Secretary "We have detailed intel on every agent they have on their side, but yet we have nothing about this girl." He shook his head "Sir, do you have any idea of who she might be and what her motives are?"

Walternate had a sombre look on his face. The girl was obviously becoming more than a mere inconvenience. "Not yet," he answered after a brief pause. "I will send word to our Agents on the Other Side, but I doubt that they will find anything more about 'Melissa Givens' there either."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

"Come in." Colonel Broyles ordered.

At his invitation Agent Astrid Farnsworth entered the room.

She walked towards Broyles' desk and stopped before him. Her gaze settled upon him, uncomfortably direct, yet somehow also strangely weightless, as if she were somehow viewing you from the separation of a zero-g environment.

Her eyes drifted slowly as she began to deliver her assessment of her findings, as if contemplating something inconceivably far away. "Sir, there are no records of any access in any terminal of Fringe Division, regarding the security codes active on Liberty Island, last Sunday between 11:15pm and 11:50pm. I have also expanded the search to other facilities of Fringe Division here in New York and I have also found nothing," she reported with hardly a pause between words and her strange delivery in expressionless speech.

"Thank you Agent Farnsworth, you're dismissed." Broyles waved at the agent.

Astrid spun around instantly - still on her other plane of existence - and walked back towards the exit without further comment. She closed the door behind her, leaving the two men alone once more.

"It seems Ms. Givens is also very good at covering her tracks." Broyles commented as he reclined in his chair.

"Indeed she is." The Secretary moved to stand once again at the glass wall. His eyes roaming the large room filled with Agents, yet his mind focusing somewhere else.

"Someone like her poses an enormous threat to our side Sir."

Walternate turned his head slightly towards Broyles. "Yes, I am inclined to agree," he said, then returned his attention to the hub beyond the glass once more.

Broyles got up and came to stand beside the secretary. He was often drawn to this viewpoint, where he could survey his agents, all hard at work. Observing them, witnessing their efficiency and endeavour often came as a comfort to him.

"We have one of our very best agents Over There Sir. An agent that happens to look exactly like the woman that girl went to such great lengths to help escape. We must take advantage of that."

The Secretary's lips twitched slightly on the corners. "I am very much aware of that Colonel Broyles and rest assured, I fully intend to."

* * *

"This wasn't exactly how I had envisioned our first date," Peter stated, then took a sip from his Styrofoam to-go coffee cup. He and Olivia were parked up outside Joseph Feller's apartment building, sitting side by side in her SUV and were on the lookout for the shapeshifter.

"We could always make out on the back seat," she said without taking her eyes from the building's entrance and also taking a sip from her coffee cup. Her face remained impassive, not giving any hint of how much she was enjoying their exchange.

Peter slowly turned his head towards her, giving her a pointed look. "I'm so going to hold you to that."

Olivia bit her lower lip, attempting to conceal her smile. "A lingering teenage fantasy Bishop?"

"You're kidding me?" Peter chuckled, "A hot FBI Agent, in the back seat of her government issued SUV? It's every boy's dream." He leaned slightly towards her. "If you said you'd throw your handcuffs into the mix, I think I may have an orgasm right now."

Olivia snorted, almost choking on her coffee. When she got herself back under control she responded, "Just, try not to stain the seat please."

Her lips kept twitching, unable to contain the indomitable smile that had made itself at home on her face. She couldn't help it. The playful banter between them had been absent for so long. She had missed it as much as she had missed him. The novelty was in the sexual innuendo creeping comfortably in. It surprised her how easily they both had adjusted to their new situation.

While they were on the Other Side, she had made clear to Peter how she felt about him. And he had chosen to come back with her. However this was still all very new and with everything that had happened since that confession, they had been denied the opportunity to be together by themselves.

Until now.

"Although I wonder…" Peter broke the comfortable silence that and fallen upon them "What would happen this time if we _really_ did it."

Olivia squinted her eyes at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"The last two times we..." Peter paused and gave a slight, almost nervous chuckle. "After Jacksonville, our _almost_ date. That was when you found out the truth about my origins, right?"

Olivia gave a slight nod. She took another sip of her cooling coffee and diverted her eyes back to building's entrance. The memory of that day was still painful for her.

"Then when we first kissed on the Other Side..." Peter paused. Olivia looked back at him. He smiled, although with a hint of sadness. "You were captured and the switch made, and if it weren't for Etta..." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He diverted his eyes towards his coffee cup. He cleared his throat after a moment of silence.

"Anyhow," he continued. "I wonder what will happen when we do make out for the first time. Maybe a comet will collide with Earth causing a massive extinction event." Peter gave another nervous chuckle.

Olivia kept her eyes on him.

She knew what he was doing. Using humour to try to make light of recent events that had caused so much heartache to them both and had come so very close to driving them apart.

But she understood that it was also his way of saying _'I'm scared of what might happen if we do this'_. She couldn't blame him for feeling that way. Sometimes it seemed like the universe held a grudge against them.

Olivia also knew that he was mostly worried for her. That somehow he could hurt her, even unintentionally. It was evident that Etta's account of events which would have taken place if she hadn't interfered, was fresh in both their minds.

It was obvious that Peter was still having a hard time coming to terms with the consequences of his actions after finding out about his true origin. Of what would have happened to Olivia if Etta hadn't come along.

The FBI Agent smiled at him and reached for his face, she would not to allow him to make himself suffer any more. She caressed his light stubble with the back of her hand, revelling in the feel of the small hairs against her delicate skin.

The fact that she was the one to initiate that kind of intimate gesture, gave her an overwhelming sense of happiness. Goosebumps erupted across her skin at the feel of his face against her hand.

Since the first days of their partnership, Peter had always been there to give her emotional comfort through his touch when she needed it the most.  
He was a tactile person by nature, she had learned that early on.

Even during those first unassuming encounters, his touch imparted warmth and strength and had an undeniable calming effect on her; keeping her grounded during those troubled and stressful early days at Fringe Division.

Olivia found it odd back then. She wasn't the kind of person that would actively seek that kind of intimate contact, especially with someone she had just met. But with Peter she found peace in his touch and quickly found herself craving it, especially during the more difficult cases that kept landing in her lap. He supplied that simple contact, time and again, just when she needed him to.

She also knew that he reacted instinctively out of concern for her, there was no ulterior motive behind it. Peter had always let his guard down in those moments when he tried to soothe her; when she'd allowed herself to become consumed by a case.

She could not fail to see his compassion written so clearly on his face, nor to feel the tenderness of his touch, every time he had reached out to her to comfort her.

She realised now that Peter had cared about her since the beginning and marvels at how quickly she had come to rely on his support. Later as their relationship evolved, she started craving for his touch for a whole different reason. She had been afraid to admit to herself at the beginning, but she wasn't afraid any more.

Now she was the one seeking contact with him, openly, without reservations. It felt heavenly just to be able to act upon her impulses and to see how much it was appreciated in return. It also awoke a much deeper kind of craving in her.

Her hand fell to his neck, and she pushed herself gently against him. Olivia brushed her lips against his and she felt his hand on her waist, drawing her closer to him.  
He deepened the kiss and she welcomed it smiling against his lips. It was the go ahead that she needed to pour everything into the heated kiss.

Over There, their kiss had been probing. She had been afraid that he might reject her. But as he accepted her, it became a gentle expression of implicit love. This time it was filled with so much more. She ached for him and showed it as her tongue gained entrance to his mouth, battling with his own.

Olivia held nothing back, only stopping when breathing became a necessity, still only leaving his mouth after biting his lower lip. She had let it be her way of saying _'Let's put the hurt behind us. I want to move on, with you'_.

She took a deep breath to recover from the kiss. Her body flushed, heating up in places that had been dormant for too long. Olivia feasted on Peter with her eyes.  
His raged breathing and flushed cheeks showed that he was every bit as aroused as she was. Her eyes slid lower, and at finding further evidence her eyebrows arched appreciatively and her teeth worked at her lip.

Feeling a little guilty, not to mention frustrated herself, she drew in a cleansing breath and worked at reigning in her wandering mind. "So Bishop, are you still afraid the world is going to end if we make out?" She wiggled a teasing eyebrow.

Peter blew out a shaky breath then chuckled. "Sweetheart, if that kiss was any indication of what 'making out' with you will be, I wouldn't care less if the Universe explodes afterwards. I would surely die a happy man."

Olivia snorted and shook her head, sliding back in her seat. She shifted her gaze towards the entrance of the shapeshifter's building.

Peter's eyes remained fixed on her. Reaching out a hand he gathered a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear.  
"Unfortunately I don't see that happening anytime soon," he said ruefully as he continued to caress her face, an almost apologetic smile on his face.  
Olivia squinted her eyes, silently questioning him.

"First of all..." He explained "I live with Walter, in case you have forgotten. Although I'm sure he would love to see us make out, as disturbing as that sounds." Peter shook his head and chuckled, making Olivia smile.  
"And currently..." he continued, "_our_ grown-up daughter from the future his kinda of living with you. And she, I'm sure, would _not_ appreciate seeing her parents going at it."

Olivia took his hand from her face and kissed the knuckles of his fingers.  
"For your information, _our_ grown-up daughter actually volunteered herself to stay with Walter, so we can go out on a date. She even suggested that she could stay a night at her grandfather's so we could..." she left the innuendo hanging in the air, again the eyebrows lifted and Olivia bit her lower lip suggestively.

"She did?" Peter raised his own eyebrows.

"Hm-mm" Olivia nodded, unable to hide her own smile.

"I knew we had done a great job raising that girl." Peter grinned at her.  
Olivia chuckled again. She didn't remember the last time she had felt so elated. The muscles in her face were almost aching from the permanent smile she'd been wearing.

"I've been meaning to tell you something." Peter broke the gentle silence that had once again fallen between them.  
Olivia shifted her eyes to him and nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"When I was in the tank, trying to remember the events from Noyo County," Peter began, "I inadvertently ended up reliving a memory from my childhood, one that I had forgotten about altogether."

That caught Olivia's attention. Like her, Peter's childhood memories were jumbled. She was curious to know what he had remembered.  
That he thought it was something relevant enough to share with her in this moment, made her all the more curious.  
Peter seemed a little uncertain about how to proceed, making her curiosity spike.

"What do you remember from your childhood in Jacksonville?" he ventured. "Have you remembered anything more from the time at the day-care, or do you recall visiting there when you were about six years old?"

The question caught Olivia totally by surprise. What did the day-care in Jacksonville had to do with Peter's childhood?  
She was about to answer when she caught sight of movement in front of the shapeshifter's building, in the periphery of her vision.

Olivia's attention snapped back to the building's entrance, where she saw a short, heavyset man leaving the building.  
"Peter look." She nodded with her head towards the man. "I think that's our guy."

Peter studied the photo of Feller they had on the dashboard, then compared it to the man strolling casually from the building.  
"It's him all right. And I bet he's taking the electromagnetic cubes with him," he said.

The shapeshifter had turned his back to them, revealing a full backpack strapped to his shoulders.  
Joseph Feller got into a car that was parked a little further up on their side of the road.

"Here we go." Olivia started her SUV, preparing to follow. "Let's see if I'm right and he will lead us to _her_"

Olivia's plan was to intercept her doppelgänger. Not to arrest her unless things got out of hand. In any case, she had no intention of holding her, she would be of little use to them stuck in a cell.  
She needed her to be in possession of the missing machine component, the one that would see her mission completed and should therefore allow her to return to her side.

That way Olivia hoped to prevent more incidents, costing lives, from occurring.  
She also hoped to somehow get through to her, make her see that they were not the enemy.

By giving her what they needed, Olivia expected that the gesture alone would help _her_ see that they had no ill intentions towards their world or their people.  
But Olivia knew there were risks involved.

For starters, even with Etta's knowledge about the events in their timeline, there was no way to be sure that Joseph Feller was really in touch with her doppelgänger.  
They were relying solely on Olivia's hunch.

According to Etta, as a result of Newton's demise at her own hand, Feller would likely have become Walternate's senior Agent embedded on their side.  
Therefore it was reasonable to assume that he would also take on Newton's role as her doppelgänger's handler.

Olivia followed the shapeshifter's vehicle through the streets of Medford, always keeping a safe distance.  
He was heading south on Forest Street, then took a right and turned on to Lawrence Road.

Olivia did the same, but as she turned she was taken by surprise.  
Ahead, the street was blocked due to what appeared to be a recent accident, no law enforcement agents or paramedics were yet on scene and so the traffic was attempting to sort itself out before becoming snarled up and subjected to a lengthy holdup.

Being one of the last cars to turn into the road, the shapeshifter's vehicle would be one of the ones who found it easiest to turn before it hit the stationary traffic.  
Indeed he was already turning in the road up ahead, and was soon on his way back towards them, with other cars following his lead.

"Oh shit," Peter said the very thing that Olivia was thinking.  
They were caught by incoming traffic behind making it impossible to reverse the car.

She tried her best to make her own turn into the other lane ahead of Feller, but so was the other vehicle in front of her.  
In any case, it was too late. Joseph Feller was already approaching, before Olivia was half way through her manoeuvre, even though space was opening up for her to take the other lane.

There was still a chance he wouldn't see them, but it was soon made evident by the shapeshifter's widening eyes that he had both seen and recognised the occupants inside the SUV.

Feller hit the gas pedal and outmanoeuvred the cars in front of him, taking the sidewalk to avoid the queueing traffic, pedestrians in panic, did what they could to get out of the way of the recklessly onrushing vehicle.  
Olivia hit her emergency lights, no longer preoccupied with being spotted by the shapeshifter. She began forcing her way out.

A mad chase ensued through Medford, bringing to Olivia's mind another pursuit she had been involved two years before - the one that had ended in John's death. This time she hoped to avoid such an outcome.

The shapeshifter kept turning and swerving, taking corners seemingly at random, trying everything he could to shake his tail.  
But Olivia, skilful and composed behind the wheel, was relentless. Peter, meanwhile, held on for dear life.

They arrived at High Street with Feller driving insanely fast, overtaking cars with no regard for other road users and in doing so was leaving a trail of traffic chaos in his wake.  
Feller suddenly swerved into the wrong lane, into oncoming traffic and making towards Canal Street.

Olivia lost some ground as she followed with caution, trying to avoid the scattering vehicles who themselves had tried to avoid a collision.  
When she made the turn, she could see that ahead was a level crossing where the street was crossed by a rail road.

The barriers were down with the warning signals flashing. Even above her roaring engine Olivia could hear the alarm dinging, announcing the imminent arrival of an approaching train.

Feller seemed unconcerned however and instead of turning left towards Prescott Street to avoid the rail road, the shapeshifter hit the gas, ploughing straight ahead.  
"He's going for it..." Peter said.

Olivia just gave a single nod. If Feller made it before the train passed, they would lose him. She also jammed her foot hard on the gas.

"Olivia! Jesus!" Peter gripped the sides of his seat.  
Olivia was completely focused on the shapeshifter's car and ignored Peter's shout.

Feller drove full speed ahead, crashing through the level crossing barriers as the train approached from the left.  
But he wasn't fast enough.

His car was still on the tracks when it was smashed by the train.  
"Olivia! Stop!" Peter shouted once more.

She already was. She gripped the steering wheel and slammed her foot on the breaks.  
The car swerved and skidded until it stopped inches away from the still rolling train.

They panted and exchanged looks. "I... I'm sorry Peter... I was so focused..." Olivia said through heavy breaths, the post effects of the adrenaline rush making her hands tremble.

"It's okay." Peter grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You stopped in time."

They shifted their gaze towards the railway, as the train had at last slowed down until it came to a full stop. "Take this." Olivia handed her backup gun to Peter.

He nodded and got out of the car, following her lead. They ran towards the front of the locomotive.

The train was long, with dozens of freight cars. It had taken a while to come to a full stop, more than half a mile from the level crossing.  
It took Olivia and Peter almost five minutes to reach the locomotive, having to run along a narrow stretch of gravelled path at the side of the train.

The shapeshifter's vehicle had been part shoved, part dragged, carried along by the momentum of the train even after the initial smash.  
The driver's side of the car had taken the impact. That left side was mangled, the metal bent, twisted and torn like a thin aluminium can.

A human being could not have survived such an accident.

Two men were looking through the passenger window and trying to open the door. They were dressed casually, only the 'Amtrak' logo on their shirts gave away that they were train engineers.

"Stand aside, FBI!" Olivia shouted at them.

The two men, startled by the FBI Agent with her gun in hand, quickly obeyed the order. Olivia reached for her ID in her jacket pocket and showed her badge.  
"There's someone inside Ma'am, I think he's still alive," the older of the two engineers said.

"I got this." Approaching from the largely undamaged passenger side, Peter selected a large piece of jagged stone from the trackside and pounded the window of the car, smashing it into the glass until it crazed and disintegrated into tiny fragments.

Feller was trapped in his seat, his body was almost completely entombed by the twisted metal of the car.

Only his torso, head and right arm were visible.  
"I've called the paramedics Ma'am," the younger engineer said to Olivia.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Peter said as he managed to open the passenger door. He got inside while Olivia covered the shapeshifter with her weapon, in her experience these things should never be underestimated.

The two engineers watched the scene, exchanging surprised looks between them. Peter tried his best to get to the back-seat. "The backpack is trapped, Olivia and by the looks of it, I don't think there will be much left intact."

Feller started to cough, mercury dribbling from his mouth, his eyes fluttered and rolled drowsily.

"Careful Peter!" Olivia called in warning.

"What the hell is that?" The younger engineer grimaced as he stared at the spluttering shapeshifter's silver smeared mouth. Peter straightened himself the best he could on the passenger seat.

"Feller!" he called and gave a few slaps to the shapeshifter's face as he started to lose consciousness again.

Feller opened his eyes, looking more focused this time as his head lolled to the side. He stared at Peter squinting his eyes. "You're..." he coughed wetly once more, "You're the secretary's son," he coughed again, more viciously, mercury flowing from his mouth.

"How did..." he laboured through a few ragged breaths before he was able to continue, "How did you find me?"

Peter ignored Feller's questions. "The magnetic cubes you were going to use in the Number Stations, are they in the backpack?" he asked.

"The backpack... How..." Feller closed his eyes, his breathing becoming shallower.

"Feller, answer me!" Peter slapped him again.

The shapeshifter opened his eyes once more, he turned his head towards Peter. "How... how do you know about the cubes?" his voice was slurred.

Peter exchanged looks with Olivia. What the shapeshifter had just said seemed to confirm his suspicions about the contents of the backpack.

Peter's eyes settled back on Feller. "Where is the other Olivia?"

The shapeshifter stared at him, his eyes piercing Peter with a look of defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about." Peter grabbed Feller by the collar. "I know you don't feel pain like we do, but I doubt that you're comfortable right now."

Peter took the gun Olivia and handed him from his waist band and aimed it at Feller's head. "If you tell me where she is I can end this quick."

The shapeshifter started laughing between coughs. "I'll die… I'll die happy knowing you'll be wondering where she is..." another pool of mercury dripped from his mouth.  
"...traitor" he sneered at Peter.

Feller started coughing violently, making Peter grimace. When it subsided Feller closed his eyes. "Feller!" Peter shook the shapeshifter. "Wake up damn it!"

"Peter!" Olivia tried to get his attention.

Peter finally stopped and huffed frustrated. The shapeshifter was unconscious once more.

"Peter it's okay," Olivia holstered her gun and poked her head through the broken passenger window. "Maybe Etta has a way to access his memories. It's a machine after all. With all those gadgets she brought with her I'll bet she has something that's able open up this thing's memory, or hard drive, or wherever it stores his memories."

Peter looked at her, a smile blooming on his lips. "You're right. Good thinking. You're really much more than just your amazing looks, Agent Dunham." Peter's smile turned into a grin.

Olivia bit her lower lip trying to suppress her own smile, even as she rolled her eyes and shook her head at his cheesy line. As much as she wanted to return the playful banter, they had an audience, so she did her best to keep it professional.

Besides the two men were pretty freaked out with they had seen. She needed to manage the situation until Broyles got there.

She was about to turn around to speak with the engineers when Feller jolted into action once more. He grabbed Peter's hand, still holding the gun, taking the younger Bishop by surprise by the suddenness of the move.

Peter tried his best to rid himself of the strong grip Feller had on his hand.

Olivia reacted quickly drawing her gun and pointing it at shapeshifter once more. "Let him go! Now!" she shouted.

Feller sneered at her and raised Peter's hand at the level of their heads, the gun pointing towards the smashed wind-shield. "You'll get nothing from me," Feller said as he turned the gun towards his own head using impossible strength, during the struggle he had forced his thumb though the trigger guard and now he pushed.

A shot rang, the bullet making a small hole on Feller's head, mercury pooling from it.

Peter huffed and let himself sag against the seat, the strain and shock from the skirmish showing in his deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asked reaching out to Peter.

"Yeah, don't worry." He gave her a reassuring smile.

Peter turned his attention to the dead shapeshifter "Well, Let's hope his hard drive isn't in his head."

* * *

Daniel had been left puzzled by the results of his search.

He had combed through every database for women named Melissa Givens born in Boston between 1985 and 1990, he figured Melissa's age to be somewhere in her early twenties.

Only three matches had hit and none of them were the Melissa he knew.

He expanded his search to encompass the whole state of Massachusetts, looking for women with the same name born between 1980 and 1995, just to be sure. Again, none of the twenty-three women returned by the search, was Melissa.

In desperation he repeated the same search, but for the whole US.

After looking at each of the two hundred and sixty-one different identification pictures, he leaned back in his chair staring dejected at the screen. The picture of the last woman was still displayed on it. She wasn't Melissa, just like all the other pictures he had seen before also weren't her.

There was only one conclusion he could draw from that evidence.

Melissa was not whom she claimed to be.

She had lied to him and that left him with the hollow feeling of disappointment and even a little sadness. Maybe she had her reasons and she hadn't deceived him on purpose. But a little voice inside his head was telling him that he really knew nothing about her, the only knowledge he had of her, was that which she'd told him.

All of which was probably fictional.

Reason dictated that he shouldn't trust her.

Nevertheless, as much as it stung to learn about her deception, there was something about her that made Daniel want to believe that there was a reasonable justification for her actions.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe Angie was right, that he was infatuated by the girl and that was clouding his judgement. Under normal circumstances, with the evidence at hand, he would be wary of the girl and not trying to find excuses to justify her actions.

Something else was nagging him, that being her recent visit to the Fringe Headquarters. He was now seeing it from a new perspective.

She'd contacted him out of the blue and vanished before they could go out for drinks, with the excuse of her aunt being admitted to hospital.

Probably this was also a lie. But what was the purpose behind it all? Daniel recalled Angie saying that she had found Melissa wandering around the facility, apparently lost while trying to find a bathroom.

It was becoming obvious that her visit to Fringe headquarters had an ulterior motive, entirely separate to seeing him again. He had just been her way in. Had their encounter in Lewiston also been faked?

It didn't make sense, the two guys were genuine felons wanted by the authorities. Daniel had been keeping tabs on the case with the local DA, more women had come forward after the news had broken that the two had been arrested.

Besides, Daniel's arrival at the scene where they had jumped Melissa, had been completely random. He had made the decision to eat at his uncle's dinner on a last minute whim. It would have been impossible for Melissa to anticipate that he would be passing by at that moment on the exact same street where she was attacked.

Of that he was sure.

Daniel got up and went to get himself a cup of tea. He needed to clear his head and think rationally. A lot of questions were floating around on his mind. The girl had used the 'Melissa Givens' identity in Lewiston, after the attack by the two lowlifes.

She even had a showme card that had passed with flying colours through the local Police's hand-held device. Whomever she was, she clearly had access to high-end fake credentials, ones that could not be bought on the street.

Was she was a foreign agent that had used their accidental encounter to get access to Fringe Division? After all, they were under the jurisdiction of the Department of Defence. If she'd gained access to one of their terminals, god knows what kind of information she could have stolen.

And that would explain the sudden interest of the Secretary of Defence in the girl. What didn't make sense was the whole cover story the Secretary had fed him.

Besides, if Daniel had really aided a foreign agent, even unwittingly, he was sure he would be in a very bad situation by now, suspended and maybe even detained. But none of that had happened.

He huffed, his mind was running at a thousand miles per hour. He only had conjecture, with not a single shred of proof and lots of questions that needed answering.

Then again, maybe he had got this all wrong, and it was as innocent as the Secretary seemed to want him to believe.

He pondered on talking to Angie about it, but he dismissed the idea immediately. Whatever Melissa had dragged him into, he didn't want to risk dropping Angie in the middle of it.

If he intended to continue his investigation, doing so from Fringe Division was probably not a good idea. He needed to continue this from someplace else, outside the jurisdiction of the Department of Defence.

He took the last sip from his tea and made a decision. It was almost lunch time and it had been a while since he had seen his friend Detective Huertas from the NYPD.

He thought it was about time to pay him an overdue visit.

* * *

**A/N Big thanks to the ever amazing Crys for putting up with my silly writings and turning them into something readable.**  
**Your the best mate!**  
**Thanks also to everyone that keep reviewing, fallowing and/or reading the story.**  
**Hope everyone likes the latest instalment.**  
**See ya all in the next one.**

**A/N 2  
Just did some reformatting. The first version I published got a bit messed up. Hope it's better now.**


	27. Old Friends From the Future

**Chapter 27 – Old Friends From the Future.**

"This is Fascinating!" Walter's excited voice echoed around the lab.

All heads turned towards the bench were the elder Bishop was stooped as he continued his examination of the dead shapeshifter, laid out on the steel table before him.

Olivia and Peter had returned to the lab after the events following their mad chase through the streets of Medford, ending with the demise of the shapeshifter known as Joseph Feller. Olivia had the remains shipped to the lab and that body had been keeping Walter busy since their arrival a few hours earlier.

Peter set up at his workbench and had started the task of first accessing and then reading the data stored on the device they had removed from the body of the shapeshifter. Astrid was assisting while Etta and Olivia stood close by watching the two of them work.

Contrary to Olivia's prediction, Etta didn't have in her possession a gadget from the future to read the shapeshifter's disk. But the younger Bishop had something just as useful. She had brought instructions from Donald on how to unlock the information with nothing more spectacular than an early 21st century computer.

Peter turned his head towards the workbench where his father was working. "What is it Walter?" he inquired.

"This is really an ingenious design, I must say!" Walter grabbed two crocodile clamps, bringing them before his eyes. He repeatedly squeezed them playfully and by the delighted look on his face, he seemed to find this most amusing. He cleared his throat when he noticed his son shaking his head dismayed. "Now, Look Peter!" the old scientist urged. The clamps were connected by wires to a power source, and now he attached the clamps, to nerve like fibres leading from the shapeshifter's abdomen, towards the groin. Walter turned a dial controlling the electrical current and the jolt of energy immediately caused the shapeshifter's sexual organ to become erect. "It's fully functional!" Walter enthused, "Such a complete system would make this a wonderful sex toy!"

"Oh merciful God," Peter groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Meanwhile the women shared a look between them, a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment evident on their faces.

"Walter, Could you please, turn that… thing off?" Peter hissed.

"Don't worry my boy, it's completely harmless!" Walter's cheerful voice contrasted enormously with Peter's annoyed tone. Astrid and Etta simultaneously let out a muffled snort.

The old scientist pressed on regardless, "You see, although it has a fully functional penis, it does not have an active reproductive system. No sperm cells are evident, it could never create life. If one of these creatures ever replaced you Peter, Agent Dunham could be rest assured that she would not become pregnant."

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but was clearly at a loss of words.

Olivia took it upon herself to intervene. "Thank you Walter, it's good to know that." She bit her lower lip, her eyes shifting between the disk they were working on and Peter. The hint of an amused smile lingered on her lips, although she was obviously trying to suppress it.

"Etta dear, are there any female shapeshifters on the list you gave Agent Broyles?" Walter addressed his granddaughter as he proceeded to remove the clamps from the shapeshifter's body.

Etta's brow furrowed slightly for an instant, as if she was searching a list stored in her mind. "I think there are some," she replied, then her brow furrowed and her nose crinkled as she queried, "Why?"

"You just had to ask." Peter murmured to Etta in a somewhat reproachful and resigned tone.

The blonde Bishop mouthed a 'why' towards her father, clearly not understanding the reason behind his warning.

"I wonder if sexual arousal stimulates vaginal lubrication. I would love to examine a shapeshifter while in female form." Walter stated matter-of-factly in a very serious tone, as if he was discussing just another scientific hypotheses.

'That's why' Peter mouthed back at Etta. She bit her lower lip and lowered her head, eyes drifting to the worktop.

"Walter, why don't you turn your examination to other body parts of the shapeshifter?" Peter suggested, trying to end the discussion about the shapeshifter's private parts once and for all. "Perhaps you'll find a backup disk, or another way to get information from that thing?"

"Yes, yes. Of course! I got so distracted by the innovative design controlling this specimen's sexual organs, that I completely lost track of what I was doing." Walter set the clamps aside on his workbench and proceeded with his examination of the shapeshifter.

"Great, you keep on doing that." With Walter refocused, Peter shifted his attention back to his project. He finished soldering a cable to the disk which was in turn connected to a standard USB plug. "Okay, this should be ready." He held the connector out to Astrid, who connected it to her laptop.

"It worked!" she smiled as the operating system detected the disk. She clicked on it, but to her dismay after a few seconds an error message appeared on the screen. The disk was unreadable.

"Let me try another port." The Junior FBI Agent said. After a few seconds, the same error message appeared on the screen once more.

"Maybe I made a mistake connecting the wires." Peter suggested hopefully. He closely inspected each wire and the joint he'd soldered to the disk. "I don't see anything wrong. If Donald's instructions are right, this should be working."

"Maybe Donald got it wrong? We didn't exactly have shapeshifters to test it on back in my timeline." Etta took a peek at the disk her father was examining.

"No, I think his instructions are correct. May I see?" Astrid asked, then plucked the disk from Peter's hand, turning it over as she made her inspection. "The computer detected it, like it was an external USB drive. The problem occurred when I tried to access it; the operating system reported an error making it impossible to extract anything from it. So my best guess is that the shapeshifter's disk is corrupted, damaged in the collision with the train."

Frustrated, Olivia ran both her hands through her hair. "So we're back at square one," she sighed and stepped away from the bench. "We have no way to know where _she_ is. We can't get to her to find out what they're planning." She paced away but spun back abruptly, her anger turned inwards, directed at herself. "I should have been more careful."

"Olivia, this was not your fault." Peter's voice was firm and levelled. "It was just bad luck that the accident on Lawrence Road forced the guy turn around, there was no way you could have predicted that, and without it he would never have spotted us."

Peter approached Olivia and stood in front of her, locking eyes. "Look at it this way; at least we know that they won't be able to instigate the Number Stations incident. The cubes were in the sapeshifter's possession. Now we have them, at least what's left of them after they were crunched by the train."

Olivia shook her head. "But what if they have more cubes? _She_ is not going to stop because one shapeshifter was disabled. I'm sure she'll find a way to continue with her mission even after a setback." She crossed her arms in front of her chest looking down. She huffed out another heavy breath and looked back up, returning Peter's stare. "I know I would."

Peter gently grabbed her right arm. "Broyles has agents of his personal trust watching the radio towers. If someone tries anything, they'll report directly to him."

Olivia shrugged. The gesture along with the dour look on her face, perfectly expressing the dejection he knew she felt, each served as a tell-tale sign she was not at all happy with the turn of events. Olivia hated sitting around waiting for things to happen, her energy needed an outlet and without any other option currently available, she paced the lab with chopped, agitated strides.

They had to do something.

"What if we go after another shapeshifter?" Peter suggested. "We have Etta's list, so we know some of the shapeshifter's identities. I'm thinking of one that I'm sure Broyles must be dying to get his hands on."

"Senator Van Horn." Olivia squinted her eyes, the crease in her brow indicating she was considering what Peter had just suggested. She remained silent for a few seconds while she mulled the idea over. "The problem is..." Olivia spread both her hands before her. "If we start hunting down shapeshifters, we risk tipping them off that we're on to them. That was why Broyles decided to leave them alone for the time being."

"They're bound to figure that out sooner or later Olivia," Peter pressed the issue. "We're going to start digging up the machine soon, I don't think we'll be able to hide that from them. Remember, Senator Van Horn is part of the Senate Commission; the same one that we answer to and I'm due to report to them next week. The Senator will be there, we don't have a choice but to tell them about the Machine and our intention to recover the components. We need their authorisation, not to mention the funding for each of the digs and transportation of each of the pieces so that we can build the thing on Liberty Island." Peter took a few restless steps of his own and came to stand in front of Olivia. "They will realize we know much more than they thought we did; that we have information we've been hiding from them, which will imply that we know who their infiltrated agents are. So I say we go after them. Now, before they see it coming."

Olivia kept her steely gaze on Peter, but she bit her lower lip, again a sign that she was considering her options, evaluating what Peter had just proposed.

"If you're thinking about the Senator that is friends with Broyles, I think he will get himself in a traffic accident in a few weeks from now and die." Etta pitched in from her position at the bench were they had been analysing the shapeshifter's disk. "I remember Astrid pointing that out to me back in my timeline. It was when you guys captured Newton."

"That is, if it will still happen at all," Astrid mentioned speculatively, with raised eyebrows. "Things have already changed. Things may be different now from what you learned from our timeline, remember?" She glanced at Etta, before suddenly shifting her attention towards Peter, where her eyes narrowed as she studied him.

Noticing the expression on Astrid's face, he frowned. "What?"

"I just thought of something." Astrid tossed the shapeshifter's disk into the air with one hand, over her shoulder and grabbed it with the other. She grinned at Peter. "Remember that friend of yours that helped us read those fried disks from the Brian Dempsey case, the hacker who wrote that computer program that turned people's brains into mush? Maybe your friend could find a way to read this one too." Astrid held the disk aloft with two fingers, keeping it firmly in front of Peter's face.

"Akim?" He asked.

"Astrid's right." Olivia nodded at the Junior Agent. "If it wasn't for that friend of Peter's, Ella would have…" She shuddered involuntarily then shook the memory away. "God, I don't even what to think about it."

She turned to Peter. "But you are right too. So, why don't you go to Akim's shop, maybe he can do something with the disk? If he can't, then we'll have to become more proactive with our next move. I have to drop by the FBI office to brief Broyles about Feller. We'll meet back here afterwards."

"I haven't seen Akim in a while," Peter said a little doubtfully, never the less, he pried the disk from Astrid's fingers. "But it's worth a shot."

"Kiddo, wanna join me on a field trip?" he asked Etta, grabbing the keys to the station wagon. He tossed them in the air, playfully copying what Astrid had done with the disk moments before.

"You bet," the blonde Bishop said and snatched the keys while they were still in mid-air, before they reached Peter's outstretched right hand. "I'll drive. I've been dying to get my hands on Walter's legendary Oldsmobile!" the grin splattered on her face was contagious.

Peter chuckled and shook his head slightly. "Be my guest. My girl, you're in for quite a ride."

"Indeed you are!" Walter raised his head from the shapeshifters body, looking at his granddaughter "I spent many memorable moments in that van. I remember..."

"Walter!" Peter interrupted his father before the story spiralled out of control. "Tell you what; you can tell all about your automotive escapades next time Etta spends the night with us."

"Oh, Yes! That will be marvellous!" Walter clapped his hands and grinned. "Have a safe trip dear." He waved at Etta and got back work on the dead shapeshifter.

Etta waved back. "Thanks Walter," she said and turned for the door to the lab.

Peter shook his head amused and trailed after Etta following in her footsteps. As he passed by Olivia, he leaned towards her. "Driven by blonde women… Story of my life."

* * *

Daniel Hollands arrived at the parking garage near Battery Park where the mysterious 'Melissa' had left her car the previous Sunday. He had enlisted the help of his friend Detective Huertas from the NYPD, who had made it possible to trace Melissa's movements from that night, by pulling the footage from CCTV and traffic cameras.

He could have done it himself using his Fringe credentials, but then his work would have been instantly traceable and for the moment he felt that adopting a little subtlety was prudent.

She had parked her car in that same garage, a Lexus rental taken out from a service based in Lewiston. Huertas had contacted the rental company and they confirmed the car had been rented for two weeks and paid for by Melissa Givens with a show me card confirming that identity.

From the garage, they knew that Melissa had walked towards the park but she never showed up again in any footage from the surrounding area. The young woman entered the park and vanished.

Daniel checked his watch, he didn't have much time. He was due back at Fringe Division after lunch and he didn't want to arrive late. From now on, keeping a low profile was of the essence.

Huertas had been kind enough to lend him his 'Universal Vehicle Access Kit' as he had called the gadget he'd pressed into Daniel's hand. He'd said that sometimes in his line of work, they had to 'get creative'. _"But you didn't get that from me Bro,"_ Huertas stressed as Daniel left the station.

He placed the small device on the driver's side door of Melissa's Lexus, near the vehicle's door handle as his friend had instructed. The device attached itself with a metallic thump as its magnets engaged, holding it in place against the door. He touched a button on the casing and a yellow LED started blinking, indicating that the gadget was trying to crack the lock's code.

In just a few seconds, a green LED replaced the flickering yellow on the device. At the same time, the car emitted two short beeps and flashed its turn signalling lights. Huertas' gadget had performed, the vehicle was unlocked and anti-theft measures had been disarmed.

Daniel took a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. He opened the door and got inside.

He inspected the interior closely, opening the glove compartment, checking behind the visors and every single place where Melissa may left something behind. There was nothing relevant, besides the rental agreement documents, which revealed nothing new. He popped the trunk and went around to check it. It was clean and empty. He sighed, Melissa knew very well what she was doing and had left no traces behind.

Daniel went back to the cabin of the car. Hoping he would find something under the seats, he used his pocket flashlight to check. He was rewarded with a few crumbs of what appeared to be potato chips. An idea crossed his mind. He took an evidence bag from his pocket and collected as many crumbs as he could gather.

He got out of the car and relocked it before storing the evidence bag in one jacked pocket and the UVAK another. Then removed his gloves and as he walked back towards his vehicle, he tapped his earpiece. His friend at the NYPD had just picked up when he noticed a strange man wearing a fedora hat, standing just inside the entrance to the parking garage. "Hey Huertas, call you back in a sec okay?" He touched his earpiece ending the call.

The man stood in the shadows, there was only dim light filtering inside the cavernous structure to illuminate his features. But it was enough for Daniel to notice that the man was observing him. "Hey you!" The Fringe Agent shouted to the man as he walked towards him.

As he approached, Daniel could hardly see the guy's face, although he knew there was something strange about him. Getting closer he realised what it was, the individual had no facial hair whatsoever, not even eyebrows.

Daniel was just about to cross the road to get to him, when he was forced to stop his progress by a passing car. He glanced at it, just long enough to judge when it would be safe to move and when he looked at the spot where the man had been, he discovered that he was no longer there. He hurried across, checking the street for the guy as he went, finding no sign, he then looked within the parking structure trying to locate the peculiar man. But he was gone.

There were no doors nearby, not that he could have reached so quickly, nor were there cars so close to the exit that he could have used for cover. Quite simply, he'd vanished. "What the hell?" Daniel muttered to himself.

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, maybe he was getting paranoid, spooked by Melissa's disappearing act in this very area, he'd started seeing things.

He wandered back to his car, still checking over his shoulder he tapped his earpiece once more. "Yo Huertas, that wizard tech girl you guys got there at NYPD, the one that you're always bragging about, do you think she can pull a DNA sample from potato chip crumbs?"

* * *

Peter and Etta stepped out of Walter's Vista Cruiser after Etta pulled up across the street from Akim's shop in Alston.

As they walked, Peter glanced round at the neighbourhood. It hadn't changed much since he'd last been there more than a year ago. It occurred to him that it had been on that same day that he first met Rachel and Ella. That time seemed like a lifetime ago, so much had happened since then.

Peter glanced at Etta. He wondered how it would be for her to meet a younger version of the aunt that had raised her and the cousin that she'd grown up with, but who died when she was a teenager.

Peter only had a tiny glimpse into what Etta's life must have been like, of the things she had gone through growing up in her world. He knew only a few things, just those she had shared with him, but those had been enough for him to comprehend that her life had been very far from the normalcy and happiness he would have wished that a child of his would have.

He felt a wave of sadness for Etta overcoming him, but also a strong sense of affection, even admiration for her. These were feelings he found himself struck by with increasing regulatory the longer he was around her.

Part of his brain told him that it wasn't rational to feel that way towards someone he had just met the week before. But his heart told him otherwise. And somehow, despite the strange nature of their relationship, it felt natural and right experiencing that kind of affection for that brave and beautiful young woman.

He would never forget that Etta had spared Olivia from the terrible ordeal that was waiting for her on the Other Side. For that alone, he would be forever grateful to her.

Etta also meant something with further reaching importance to Peter; that he and Olivia had a chance of a future together. More than a chance, it was a promise.

Etta was the proof of that, even if she came from a dystopian future. One they had every intention to, and a very real shot at changing. Peter felt increasingly confident, that somehow they could reshape the future for the better.

Peter pushed the door open triggering a buzzer that signalled their arrival. Akim looked up and was obviously surprised to see his old acquaintance, but his attention was quickly taken by the beautiful young woman following Peter inside. "I thought you would be long gone by now Bishop" The African-American man said shifting his gaze back to Peter briefly, but soon it was sliding back to Etta.

"What can I say, the idea of being away from you was intolerable. So I decided to hang around Boston for a while longer to make sure we kept in touch," Peter said, dragging the man's focus back to him once more.

Akim gave a light snort. "Always the comedian. What brings you here this time?"

Peter dropped his hand inside his jacket pocket and removed the shapeshifter's disk, still with the USB cable attached. He handed it to Akim.

"What kind of drive is this?" Akim frowned while rotating the disk in his hand.

"The kind I need you to read," Peter began cryptically. "It's defective, so I need you to work your magic."

Akim paused, still considering the disk. Any doubts he had were more than matched by his curiosity about the strange piece of technology. "Come with me," he invited.

Peter and Etta followed Akim deeper in to the store, and into his workshop at the back. The computer genius got straight down to business. He flicked a lamp on above his work station then immediately started working on the disk. He plugged it into one of the many desktop computers he had scattered throughout the workshop.

Akim punched a few commands on a terminal window. "Okay, I can't see what kind of filesystem this thing is using..." Undeterred he punched in a few more commands. "Wow!" his eyes widened as he read the information on the screen.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"This thing is using a GUID Partition Table," Akim explained.

Both Peter and Etta exchanged looks. For once Peter understood how Olivia felt when Walter went off on one of his scientific rambles. "Can you translate that for us please?" he asked.

"I won't go into technical details." Akim explained. "But a GUID Partition Table would usually be used on very high capacity storage device, like the ones used in high-end servers and datacentres, because there is the requirement to store lots and lots of information on those servers. The kind of information like NASA and Google need to store, you see?"

"Ok, I get it." Peter nodded.

"The common hard drives on the market, including USB drives, use MBR partition tables and have a capacity between five-hundred Gigabytes to one Terabyte, tops. This little thing here." Akim pointed to the shapeshifter's disk. "Is able to store more than one Petabyte, which is around a thousand Terabytes!" Akim stared at Peter "Where the hell did you get this?"

"That's classified," Etta answered before Peter could say anything. "Are you able to read it or not?" the younger Bishop's icily delivered question matched the frosty look with which she regarded Akim.

The African-American seemed to be taken aback by Etta's sudden intervention. Peter found it odd, the cold way in which Etta addressed Akim, yet he remained silent. He made a mental note to ask her later why she'd reacted that way.

Akim gave Etta an awkward smile. "If it was a normal disk, I would try to perform a low level copy and transfer the information that way, salvaging the recoverable information to a new disk."

He disconnected the disk and picked it up, once again holding it under his scrutiny. "The disk is indeed damaged, but the real problem is that I don't have anything here with enough capacity to transfer whatever is on this, on to. I don't know anyone who has."

Peter kept his eyes on the shapeshifter's disk. The deep crease between his eyebrows a dead giveaway that his mind was already working on a solution to their problem. "You said that NASA and Google use this kind of disk?" he asked.

"Well not exactly this kind," Akim tapped lightly on the metallic casing of the shapshifter's disk. "I've never seen anything exactly like this before. But they use large capacity disks that aren't available on the market for regular consumers. You're thinking of asking them to copy your disk for you?" Akim snorted.

"Nope, I'm thinking of asking the company that manufactures their servers." Peter picked up the disk. "Thanks man, you've been of much help." He motioned Etta to follow him as he turned towards the exit of the workshop.

Akim grabbed Peter's arm, halting his progression. "Peter can we have a word before you leave?"

Peter frowned looking at Akim's hand on his arm "Sure," he said careful to keep his tone light.

"I'll wait for you in the car," Etta said and without waiting for a reply, swiftly left the workshop.

Akim kept his eyes on Etta. He waited until she left the store, then asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Who... what? Etta? Nooo, no way." Peter shook his head vehemently.

"You think she'll give me her number? She seems a bit… harsh, but I like a challenge," Akim said with a hopeful smile.

"Etta?" Peter asked.

"No, Mrs. Claus." Akim rolled his eyes. "Jesus man, what's with you today?"

"Err... nothing, just a little distracted, I guess." Peter shrugged.

"So, about your hot friend, Etta?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, she's not your type." Peter waved his hand dismissively and shook his head.

"You don't know what my type is."

"Well... you're not her type."

"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend? You seem a little... protective of her."

"I told you, she's not my girlfriend and she's not interested in you. She's engaged."

"I didn't see a ring."

"Not everyone wears a ring, okay?"

"So what's the point of offering an engagement ring?"

"Who said her fiancée offered her an engagement ring?"

"The guy proposed without a ring?"

"I don't know, maybe her fiancée didn't have money to buy a ring, but still proposed."

Akim paused for a few seconds. He squinted his eyes at Peter. "You don't want me to ask for her number, is that it? You don't think I'm good enough for her?" He asked. The tone of his voice showing a growing hint of annoyance.

Peter blinked a few times confused by Akim's reaction. Until it hit him. "Jesus, it's nothing like that," Peter huffed. "I swear that it's got nothing to do with you and you'll have to take my word on it." Peter grabbed Akim's shoulder. "It's not what you're thinking, okay?"

Akim kept the heat of his stare on Peter for an uncomfortable moment longer. "Okay, fine" he conceded after a while.

"And for your information, you should count this as a lucky escape. Her mother would kick your ass blindfolded, she's a hard core FBI agent," Peter said matter-of-factly.

That made Akim flinch. "Her mother is FBI?"

Peter nodded his confirmation. "And don't even get me started on her grandfather. That whole family? I would definitely stay away from them."

* * *

"What was that all about?" Etta asked as Peter joined her in the car.

"Nothing, forget it." He waved his hand coolly.

"I know it was about me. He was checking me out." Etta started the car and pulled away from the curb. "He did the same when I first met him back in my timeline too. He even hit on me." Etta informed him, but kept her eyes on the road.

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You knew him in your timeline?"

"Yeah, talk about coincidences." Etta gave a slight snort. "Although he was more than 20 years older than he is now. Donald told me it could happen, meeting younger versions of the people I knew in my timeline."

"Where did you know him from?"

"He worked for the Resistance. He was our go-to-guy whenever we were in need of a computer genius. He could hack into the Loyalist network, or recover data from Observer technology we stole. I guess much the same he does for you now."

Peter remained silent. That didn't really explain the cold way Etta addressed Akim back in the store. It was obvious that there was something more to it. "He was about 50 years old when you met him in your timeline, right?" Peter asked.

"I guess." Etta shrugged.

"And he hit still on you?"

"Well…" Etta made a disgruntled face. "That might have been a bit of my own fault. I kinda of... flirted with him."

Peter eyes widened a bit. "You flirted with a man old enough to be your father?" In his surprise, the tone of his voice made it come out more harshly than he'd intended.

Etta turned his head towards him. "Maybe I like older men." The glare she directed at him and the inflection on her words were a clear indication that she was not pleased with his remark.

Again, Etta's reaction took Peter by surprise. But he also had to do his best to suppress a smile, the similarity of her temperament to that of Olivia was astounding. He had been on the receiving end of that kind of searing look several times at the beginning of their relationship.

Etta kept driving, keeping her focus fixed on the road. Peter cast the occasional glance at her, noticing she was gripping the steering wheel a bit too tightly. There was something more to the Akim story and whatever it was still bothering her; that much was obvious. Still, Peter decided that he wouldn't ask any more questions. If Etta's resemblance to Olivia was any indication - and from his experience with her - he expected that the better approach would be not to push, but to back down a little and wait. He hoped that Etta would talk to Olivia or come to him when she was ready.

A few miles passed by silently, then she surprised him again when after a heavy sigh, she volunteered more on the subject. "I needed him to hack into the Loyalist network to get some information I was searching for. That's why I flirted with him. Believe me that I regretted latter on. But so did he."

"Why? What happened" Peter asked.

"The slime ball thought he had some kind of claim over me because of the flirting and the favours he did for me. He thought that also gave him the entitlement to kiss me without my consent."

"He did what?" Peter spluttered.

"Well, he tried to. He pinned me against a wall. But after that, he spent a several weeks unable to pin anything."

Peter frowned, silently questioning Etta.

"I broke his fingers on both hands." She clarified.

"Seriously?" Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, right after I kneed him in the nuts. He was lucky Eddie and Simon were there to pull me off him, or it could have ended very badly for him. I hate guys that think they can take liberties with a woman just because she smiles at them. Guys who don't understand, or choose to ignore, that when you say 'no' that it really means 'no'"

Peter chuckled, again flooded with that sense of affection and admiration. "You sure are your mother's daughter."

Etta kept her eyes on the road, yet she couldn't hide the small smile lingering on her lips. Her grip on the steering wheel relaxed visibly. Her demeanour also changed, she was more relaxed and the sombre look she had carried on her face since they had left the shop had vanished.

"Do you know anyone in the company that manufactures the servers for NASA?" Etta asked after a while.

Peter gave an amused chuckle. "I actually don't know who builds those servers, but I do know the CEO of a certain company that as access to very advanced technology and I don't have any doubt that they can copy the shapeshifter's disk."

Etta turned her head towards Peter briefly. "Massive Dynamic." She smiled and shook her head. "Of course, why didn't I think of that?"

"Nobody did." Peter shrugged. "It only crossed my mind when Akim mentioned NASA."

"You want to go there now?" Etta asked, the eagerness in her voice showed she was ready to turn Walter's old station wagon around and head to New York right then.

"Hold your horses kiddo," Peter chuckled. "Let's head back to the lab. I want to talk with Olivia first."

"Sure." Etta nodded.

Peter kept his eyes on her. Their conversation about Akim was still lingering on his mind. Something about it just didn't sit right and was gnawing at him.

"What was it that you were looking for?" he finally asked. "When you asked Akim to hack the Loyalist network."

Etta's demeanour instantly darkened once more, the smile disappeared from her face. It seemed she wasn't going to answer, but after a while she finally spoke. "I was looking for ambered locations."

Peter remained silent, yet his attention was fully on her.

"There was this rumour in the Resistance that the original Fringe Team ambered themselves to escape from the Observers. I first heard about it when Ella joined the Resistance back in Portland, I was only fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. Contrary to everyone else's opinion I believed in that rumour, so I kept searching. I never gave up until Donald found me and finally showed me the ruse behind the story - intended to deceive the Observers. There were silicone models trapped in amber, made with your likenesses. But they were so like you…" she trailed off.

Peter remained silent, staring at Etta and absorbing what he had just learned. "So all that time before Donald found you, you were looking for us, you thought we were still alive, your mother and I?" he asked.

Etta just gave a slight nod. "Yes."

Peter sighed. She had spent the better part of her adult life searching for her parents. For them. Peter reached for Etta's right hand where it rested on the steering wheel. She linked hands with him and a light squeeze was exchanged. "I'm so glad that you ended up finding us after all."

Etta looked at Peter. She was silent for a few seconds, her beautiful blue eyes were shining. It was clear to Peter she was battling for control over her emotions.

She gave a single small nod. "Me too," she said, but the sadness still lingering within her was heart-breaking.

And in that moment Peter knew he didn't need a DNA test to tell him she was their daughter. To justify his admiration for this exceptional young woman, or his desire to care for her as a parent would. She had already had a found a way to win a special place in his heart.

* * *

"Hey Danny, over here," Detective Javi Huertas called and waved at Daniel from the entrance of the NYPD forensics lab.

"Sorry man, we had a breach alert in Brooklyn this afternoon, twenty minutes before my shift ended." The Fringe Agent hurried his pace, walking towards the NYPD Detective.

"No problem Bro." Huertas waved him off. "Was it serious?"

"Fortunately it regressed. No need for ambering protocol."

"Thank god. Guess I would have heard about it on the news if it reached that point."

Both men entered the lab. Only two technicians remained there at that time of the day. One was a Caucasian male in his early fifties with receding dark hair. He kept his eyes on the microscope when Huertas saluted him, totally ignoring the NYPD Detective.

Javi rolled his eyes. "Perlmutter, always a people person," he muttered leaning towards Daniel.

Huertas directed them towards the workbench occupied by the second tech in the lab. A beautiful African-American woman in her early 30's, about 5' 5'' tall with long dark hair. She was typing away at speed on a terminal.

"Hey chica," Huertas saluted her.

Unlike her colleague, she stopped working immediately. "Hi there," the young woman greeted and turned towards the Detective, her wide smile enhancing her beauty. "So this is your Fringe Agent friend?" she said, regarding Daniel with an appraising look, from top to bottom.

"Daniel Hollands," Daniel introduced himself, laying his hand out towards the young woman.

"Tamala Parish." She took Daniel's hand and kept her deep brown eyes firmly locked with his.

"Daniel brought something for you to analyse," Huertas said, giving a small squeeze to Daniel's shoulder.

"Did he?" Tamala raised an eyebrow, still with her eyes fixed on the Fringe Agent.

Daniel let go of Tamala's hand and reached into his pocket, taking out the evidence bag with the potato chip crumbs.

"You brought me crumbs, how romantic of you," Tamala teased before she accepted the evidence bag.

"I'll bring you flowers next time, promise," Daniel gave her an amused smile.

"I'll hold you to that, handsome," Tamala wiggled her eyebrows.

Huertas cleared his throat. "You think you can extract a DNA sample from those?" the detective asked.

The African-American technician turned and directed a pointed stare at Huertas and her hands fell to her hips. "Javier Huertas, you and your dumb questions," she pulled on a pair of gloves, then opened the bag and placed the crumbs on a small petri dish.

The Detective huffed and mouthed 'women' towards Daniel. The Fringe Agent smiled.

"If someone bit on these crumbs, you bet your sorry ass that I'll get a DNA sample." She placed it inside a very sophisticated piece of technology which Daniel knew was an analyser, but he had no idea of how the thing worked. "Comprende, Detective Huertas?"

Huertas rolled his eyes but chose not to reply.

Tamala touched the display of the machine. "Now, stay quiet boys and let me work my magic." She selected several different options as appeared on the machine's display. "Let's isolate the components," she said out loud, more to herself than to the men watching her work. "Alright, we've got ourselves a saliva sample here." She smiled without taking her eyes from the machine's display. The machine had detected and identified several substances along with the biospecimen, from its analysis of the crumbs.

Tamala selected the heading listed as 'Human Saliva' from the screen, and a new menu with several choices cycled into view. Next she chose the option marked 'Extract DNA'

"Now we wait," Tamala said to the men.

"Will it take long?" Huertas enquired.

"You can't rush science." She directed a look towards the Detective which seemed to both challenge him to say something and simultaneously deter him from daring to do so. Tension crackled between the pair who remained locked in their staring contest – an event that Daniel felt sure could have lasted indefinitely – when a beep issued from the machine and the display flashed briefly, indicating it had completed its task.

"There," Tamala smiled faintly, and Huertas' eyes slid down. Satisfied, she turned her attention to the results. "The saliva belongs to a Caucasian female; blonde hair, blue eyes and she's about twenty to twenty-five years old."

Daniel nodded "That's her. Is it possible to determine her identification from that DNA sample?"

"We can try." Tamala smiled at the Fringe Agent. "If your mysterious girl has a record, either criminal or on another database, we'll find out in a second who she is. Regular citizens do not have their DNA stored in our databases, so you better pray your girl is either a law breaker or a law enforcer." Tamala selected a few more options on the same machine once more and set the search running.

Within a few seconds, the words 'No records found' appeared on the screen.

"Guess she's neither." Tamala shrugged.

"That doesn't surprise me." Daniel sighed.

"Be patient pretty boy. I still have a few more tricks up my sleeve." Tamala winked at Daniel. She pressed on the display a few more times and after a while she was left with two listed items on the screen. "See here? We've got partial matches."

The technician tapped the first result and a fresh page of data appeared. She squinted her eyes as she read through the information. "This is weird," she said, sounding puzzled.

"What is it?" Daniel asked trying to read over Tamala's shoulder.

"Your mysterious girl's DNA is a partial match to a sample from a case from over twenty years ago."

"What case?" Daniel's brow creased.

"The Peter Bishop kidnapping," Tamala replied.

"Wait, Peter Bishop as in the son of the Secretary of Defence?" Huertas asked incredulously. "You're saying this sample is linked to the kid who disappeared without explanation from his home more than two decades ago?"

"The one and only," Tamala said confidently with a nod.

"But the DNA from the girl is partially matched with whom? The kidnapper?" Daniel asked.

"Oh no, a sample the kidnapper's DNA was never found at the scene, not a hair, not an epithelial trace; a fact which is almost inconceivable, considering all the evidence has been tested and retested over the years, with each evolution in our sampling technology ." Tamala shook her head and explained her findings, "This girl, she's matched with the kidnapped boy, himself. Peter Bishop."

"That means what? That she's his cousin or something?" Daniel's brows furrowed slightly.

"Uh-uh." Tamala shook her head once more. "That's where it gets really weird. She's Peter Bishop's daughter."

"What?" Daniel squinted his eyes, his brow furrowing even deeper. "She's twenty something years old, if Peter Bishop is still alive he must be thirty by now. That's impossible, she can't be his daughter. How could a young woman in her early to mid-twenties be the daughter of a boy who disappeared when he was seven, two decades ago? That doesn't make any sense."

"Are you sure about these results?" Huertas asked.

She turned abruptly towards the NYPD Detective. "Of course I'm sure!" She said in exasperation and poked her index finger into Huertas' chest. "Listen honey, if you dare cast the shadow of your untrained doubts on my results again, Imma smack you!" she warned.

"Okay, okay!" The NYPD Detective raised his hands in surrender.

"What about the other result? Is that another partial match?" Daniel pointed to the screen.

"Let's see." Tamala pressed the display once more. "This one's her mother, she's on record too." She swiped her finger across the display and uttered an almost sceptical sounding, "Huh," of her own and squinted her eyes still consulting the results on display.

"What? Who's her mother?" Daniel asked.

"It's a colleague of yours. Fringe Agent, Olivia Dunham."

* * *

"Yes Sir, Thank you Sir." Olivia nodded and hang up her phone. "Well, there's no sign of anyone tampering with the Radio Towers, or of activity at Feller's apartment. Broyles' men haven't spotted anyone, everything's been quiet." She reported to Peter who was sitting across from her desk.

It was late afternoon and they were back at the lab. Peter and Olivia had taken up residence in her office. Etta stayed in the larger workspace, chatting with Astrid at the Junior Agent's workbench. Walter, meanwhile, was busying himself with the task of grooming Gene in the cow's stall.

"From what we've learned from Etta, originally Feller worked alone, although under the other Olivia's orders. Who knows, maybe they won't be able to trigger the Number Stations incident without him and his cubes." Peter crossed his arms above his head, reclining further back in his chair.

Olivia sighed, "Even if you're right, we have to assume that they will try something. They're not going to abandon their plan. They were able to assemble the cubes in the first place, I'm sure they can do it again, even without Feller."

"So you're saying that at best, we've probably only delayed them?" Peter's brow creased.

"Perhaps." Olivia shrugged. "But maybe you're right and they don't have access to any more cubes." She sat back in her own chair and her eyes drifted towards the lab, stopping once they reached Etta, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Astrid. At the sight of her daughter smiling and laughing, she couldn't help but smile herself.

"Having Etta with us gives us an enormous edge over them." Olivia reflected, shifting her attention back to Peter. "But at the same time, we are completely in the dark about how they will react to what _we_ are doing."

"It's still better then knowing nothing at all." Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, but..." Olivia wrinkled her nose as she considered the possible consequences and all the unknown factors which they may be unwittingly affecting. "We may be pushing them into doing something… desperate."

"Like what?" Peter frowned.

"I don't know." Olivia shrugged and let go of a heavy and frustrated sigh. "They think we're their enemy; that we want to destroy their world. If they think we've managed to get just a single step ahead of them, who knows what they might be prepared to do."

Peter kept silent. He scrubbed his hand over his face, until he cupped his chin and his palm covered his mouth. His eyes fixed on something on Olivia's desk, yet his mind was miles away.

Olivia got up and walked towards the coffee pot, she lifted it. "Coffee?" she asked.

Peter came out of his reverie. "No thanks, I'm fine," he said with a tired smile.

Olivia poured herself a cup, then returned to her desk, sitting down heavily. "If we could just get to the other Olivia, I know that I could make her see the truth. Make her understand that we aren't a threat to them."

"Tomorrow we'll see what Massive Dynamic can do about Feller's disk. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll find something that'll help us locate her," Peter speculated hopefully.

Olivia nodded and smiled faintly. Her focus shifted to the coffee mug on her desk, her eyes fixed on the black beverage, yet her mind was in another world. "I visited her apartment, when I came to get you on the Other Side. I saw pictures of her life over there, of her loved ones..." Olivia paused and her eyes drifted up, from the shimmering surface of the drink, to Peter once more. "I know that she is different from me, but at the same time she is the same. She's doing what she thinks is best to protect her world and her loved ones, that's why she accepted this mission. I would have done the same.

"But if I can make her see that we want to help her world and not destroy it, I know that she can be a valuable ally. She could help us end this senseless war that Walternate has waged upon us, for no other reason than to satisfy his personal vendetta."

She looked back at her mug, her demeanour now as dark as the coffee in her cup. "I know he is your father Peter, but he scares me. He came to see me when I was in the holding cell and..." she shook her head and gently brushed her nose with the back of her right hand.

Peter got up and walked towards her. He knelt besides her and cupped her face. "I can't even begin to imagine what that was like, being locked in that dark cell, not knowing if we would come for you." He bumped his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry Olivia."

Olivia raised her head, looking Peter in the eyes. "Peter, promise me something," she said in a soft voice.

"What?" he asked in an equally gentle tone.

"Don't apologize again for what happened to me on the Other Side. I don't blame you for it, because it was not your fault."

"Olivia..."

She touched his lips with her fingers stopping his protest before it began. "Even if Etta hadn't come for me, even if everything that was supposed to happen like she told, had really happened - I would still not blame you." Olivia replace her fingers with her lips, reassuring him with a soft, gentle kiss. "So don't apologize again, okay?" she murmured after breaking the kiss.

Peter remained quiet for a while, regarding Olivia with warmth and amazement. He swallowed a couple of times until he seemed to take control of his emotions. He reached for her once more and gently placed his lips on hers, reciprocating the kiss she had just gifted him.

Peter broke the kiss but still maintained his hold on her. "Okay I promise," he said, his voice husky. Before he could say anything else, Olivia put her hand on his chest and grabbed his shirt, pulling him against her. The soft kiss was replaced with a hungrier, more intensely passionate one. But just as the temperature began to rise, a soft knock on the door prevented things from progressing further.

They reluctantly pulled apart and Olivia did her best to regain her composure, although the flush colouring her face and swollen lips did nothing to help conceal the nature of their interrupted activity. "Come in," she said to whomever was on the other side of the door.

Etta poked her head inside the office through the slightly opened door. She looked at both her parents, clearly picking up on what they been doing just a few seconds before. She gave an apologetic smile. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"Of course not." Olivia said.

But her comment was countered simultaneously by Peter's response of, "Yes you are."

Olivia looked at Peter, surprised by the bluntness of his answer. She directed a pointed stare at him, while Etta remained quiet, also regarding her father with a light blush on her face.

Unperturbed, Peter kept his poker face. "Etta, you do realize that grown-ups sometimes engage in intimate activities, such as those your mother and I were enjoying before you interrupted us."

"I... I..." Etta said lowering her head.

"Peter..." Olivia's eyes widened, still boring into him.

Peter put his hand on Olivia's shoulder. "I think it's time we have the 'Birds and the bees' talk with our daughter," he said in a somewhat stern voice.

Olivia opened her mouth to say something but she closed it and instead she regarded Peter with an unreadable look. Then she gave a conceding shrug and turned to Etta. "Honey, when a man and a woman want to make a baby..." Olivia began to say.

Etta stared at her mother her mouth opened wide. "Birds and the bees?" she interrupted Olivia "Seriously?"

"Why, you don't think you're old enough to have this conversation?" Peter asked, his poker face being replaced by an amused grin.

Etta shook her head and squinted her eyes at him. "You guys are such comedians"

At that precise moment Walter chose to make an entrance, bursting into Olivia's office. "Peter! Peter! I'm going to see Iron Man 2!"

"You what?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

Astrid joined the group. "Walter calm down," she urged and placed a calming hand on the excited scientist's shoulder.

"That was what I was coming to tell you," Etta explained. "I was talking with Astrid and movies came up in the conversation. I never had the chance to go to a cinema before to watch a movie..." Etta shrugged. She somewhat seemed a little embarrassed by her confession.

Noticing the younger Bishop's slight awkwardness, Astrid decided to intervene, "So, I thought we could catch one today and Walter was very excited about the prospect of seeing Iron Man 2, so we decided we'd take him with us," the Junior Agent explained.

"I'm so thrilled son!" Walter bounced on his heels. "Belly and I once considered building an Iron Man like suit of armour, but we got distracted by a more…."

Astrid grabbed the old scientist by his arm. "You can tell that story another time Walter, we have to hurry if we want to catch the 6:30pm screening."

"Oh, yes! Of course Astro! Good Bye Agent Dunham! Good Bye son!" He waved his hand as Astrid linked her arm with his and gently but firmly, ushered him from the office.

"Bye Walter have fun." Peter waved back at his father. "Are you sure about this?" he asked turning to Etta.

"Yeah, I think the distraction will be good for us all." She shrugged giving a faint smile.

"Still, Walter can be a handful most of the time." Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, Astrid will be there to help me." Etta waved her hand, dismissing Peter's concerns. "And if all else fails, we'll have access to a kiosk full of ice-cream and candy to keep him satisfied."

"Have fun then, sweetie," Olivia said with a smile.

Etta smiled back at her mother. "Thanks." She turned to leave the office, but when she reached the door she turned around so she faced her parents once more. "By the way, _dad_" she said putting extra emphasis and sass on his name. "Afterwards I'll be spending the night at Walter's, so I strongly advise you to ask your girlfriend out on a proper date. Then perhaps you could spend the night at her house. You know, give you the chance to 'engage in grown-up intimate activities' without anyone interrupting." And with that she spun on her heels and left the office for the night.

Olivia pursed her lips, trying to hide her amusement. "She's definitely your daughter, Bishop," she said.

"Are you trying to tell me you still had even the slightest about that?" Peter asked with a grin plastered on his face. "That comeback she threw at me just made me proud."

Olivia snorted and shook her head. She placed her elbow on her desk and rested her chin on her hand. "So?" she invited, while arching her eyebrow and flashing a toothy smile.

"So... what?" he challenged.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Aren't you going to ask me out?"

"You really want to?" Peter asked somewhat surprised. Olivia remained silent, directing an amused and pointed look in his direction.

"Okay then." Peter said unable to hide his own smile. "I know this great Italian restaurant, it's not far from your apartment..." he started to say.

Olivia got up and put her arms around Peter's neck. "Actually, I have a much better idea." she bit her lower lip and wiggled her eyebrows.

* * *

Liv paced the floor of safe house in Woburn, where she'd been holed up for endless hours. Back and forth she moved, relentlessly. The novelty – if there ever was one - of having nothing to do but wait around, alone and powerless to do anything to change the course recent events, had well and truly worn off.

Feller was supposed to have met them earlier that afternoon. It was his job to bring the cubes to insert the pulse in the broadcast from the radio towers. However, hours had passed by and he hadn't shown up. Luke Thurston, the shapeshifter whom had assumed Olivia's stepfather form, had tried to contact Feller, but his cell phone was disconnected. By mid-afternoon Luke left in an attempt to find out what had happened to Feller.

Evening had since fallen and neither of them had come back.

Liv was on edge. Every honk of a car horn on the street, every unexpected noise from the outside made her heart race. Something was definitely wrong and she was feeling increasingly apprehensive and claustrophobic.

Hearing footsteps outside the apartment and not wanting to take any chances, she unholstered her gun. Liv positioned herself defensively besides the entrance door, her back to the wall, gripping the gun in a firm but relaxed hand.

Hearing a key fumbled into the lock, she breathed out in relief. An intruder would not use a key, still she did not move from her position with the gun in her hand. The door opened and she levelled her weapon, lining the target up with an unblinking eye along the sight.

Luke entered the apartment and closed the door. He almost jumped off his feet when he saw the gun pointed directly at him. "Jesus!" he said.

Liv holstered the gun. "What took you so long?"

Luke let out a sigh. "There's no sign of Feller, I've been searching for him all this time. That's why I was away for so long." He walked towards the table in the middle of the living room where he dumped the bag of takeout food he'd carried in. "I've brought you food."

"I'm not hungry." She remained impassive, arms crossed over her chest.

"You're welcome." Luke replied dryly.

"So, about Feller." Liv's tone denoted her impatience.

"I went to his apartment but I didn't get in, it was being watched. I waited outside his building for a full hour, but there was no sign of Feller." Luke waved his hand before Liv could say anything about being spotted. "Don't worry I kept my distance, no one saw me." He went for the take out bag and took out a burger. "You're sure you don't want one?" He wafted the burger in front of her face.

Liv shook her head. "I told you I'm not hungry," she said, coldly eyeing the shapeshifter, silently warning him to back off.

The shapeshifter shrugged with a smile and peeled back the paper wrapping. "Suit yourself," he said and took a bite from the burger. "These are really good," he said between munches.

"What else?" Liv asked, the tone she used hinting that her annoyance was still simmering, and could yet boil over at any second.

"I contacted our guys at the Bureau. They knew nothing about a stake out at Feller's apartment. I asked them to enquire about Feller, to quietly search FBI sources and also other Law Enforcement agencies for information about him, but so far they've not been able to find anything. They also searched hospitals and the local PD and again, they came up empty. It's like the guy just vanished from the face of the earth."

Liv shifted her gaze from the shapeshifter, staring through the living room window, her mind was focused somewhere else. She remained silent for a few moments. "You said Feller's apartment was being watched?" She asked after a while, turning her attention back towards the shapeshifter.

"Yeah." Luke nodded. "They looked like feds, but our agents at the Bureau were unable to find who had order it. Officially there's no one within the FBI investigating Feller."

"I don't like this one bit," Liv muttered.

"There's more." Luke selected a can of soda from the bag and opened it. "I went to one of the Radio Towers we were supposed to infiltrate, I thought maybe the little fella had decided to go solo, since you two got along so well during our last job." He said sarcastically, and while he took a sip from the can he paused again, apparently savouring the beverage.

"And?" Liv asked, dangerous impatience displayed on her face. She found herself wishing with increasing frequency, that this guy would learn to just get on with it.

"There were also feds watching."

"What?" Liv's eyes widened.

"There were feds watching the Radio Tower." Luke repeated deliberately.

Liv ran a hand through her hair. "This mission has been a disaster from day one. Now it's obvious why."

"It is?" Luke asked.

"We are the ones who have been infiltrated." Liv said, the pitch of her voice raising an octave.

Luke remained silent regarding Liv. "That's impossible," he dismissed after a few seconds. "We have agents implanted in several key positions of their Law Enforcement Agencies and Government. They have been there for years. If they had infiltrated us, we would have known in advance. Not to mention that they are less advanced then us."

"Are they?" she bristled angrily. "Five of them managed to crossover to our side recently, we captured only one of them. Then the woman we did capture manages to escape under incredible circumstances and crosses back over."

She took a few steps towards the shapeshifter. "From what I've learned, it took years and several tries for the Secretary to crossover safely to this side. _They_ managed to do it in a heart-beat. First to get the Secretary's son and then again to rescue my doppelgänger." She jabbed her index finger into Luke's chest. "They did all this in our home, under our noses and with all the agents we have infiltrated on their side. We never saw it coming." Liv took the finger from the shapeshifters chest. Yet her eyes remained hot and just as threatening. "So, you tell me; who is less advanced?"

For once, Luke remained silent. No flippant answer to her question came out of his mouth.

Liv stepped away, and resumed her pacing of the room. "It's obvious they also have some way to anticipate our every move. We have to assume that we've been compromised. How they did it remains to be seen."

"So what do you propose we do?" Luke asked.

Liv shook her head and waved her hand firmly. "We cannot trust any of our agents on this side."

"You're saying that one of them double crossed us?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know, maybe. What I'm certain of is that _they_ know who our agents are." Liv answered.

Luke nodded. "Because they were watching Feller's place and the Radio Towers and that information was kept from our infiltrated agents at the Bereau," he said more to himself then to Liv.

She nodded her agreement, giving a faint smile to the shapeshifter, glad that Luke was finally catching on to her train of thought.

The shapeshifter continued, "Maybe they don't know exactly who our agents are, maybe they only suspect they've been infiltrated, so they shared that information with only a restricted group of people they trust."

"Maybe you're right," Liv conceded, "but we have to assume the worst. From now on we cease contact with any of our agents stationed here. We have to find a way to contact the Secretary directly; we must also consider that the leak may have its origins in _our_ universe."

"But the only way to contact our side is through the typewriter at the antique shop and I wouldn't be at all surprised to find that they have the store under surveillance too." Luke assessed.

Liv remained silent. She knew that Luke was probably right. It would be too risky for any of them to walk into the store to send a message. If the FBI knew about Feller and the Radio Towers, they would probably also know about the antique store. She took another lap around the room, until something crossed her mind. "I have an idea. But first we have to leave this place immediately. They must have captured him, I don't think he turned on us, otherwise this place would have been stormed by the FBI by now. Feller is probably dead, but still, I don't want to risk it."

"Okay, we can rent a room at a motel." Luke said.

Liv shook her head. "We'll think about where to stay once we reach New York."

"New York?" Luke squinted his eyes at Liv.

"That's right, we're going to New York. Right now."

* * *

Daniel arrived at home at last. He closed the door behind him and huffed. It had been a hell of a day.

He grabbed a slice from a pizza joint, for a make do dinner as he left the NYPD forensics lab. While he was eating, Angie had called saying that she was with Charlie Francis at their usual hang out spot, at the bar not far from Fringe Division. She insisted that he join them from a couple of cold ones. He decided he would, in an attempt to forget all the craziness that had happened throughout the day. He needed to clear his head, though perhaps he was more likely to cloud it with alcohol – and perhaps that was just as good.

Charlie had been hanging out with them for the last few days. Lincoln was still in recovery and Agent Dunham was away on some kind of mission. Daniel pondered on asking Charlie about Olivia and the possibility of her having a child. But he decided against it.

Asking Francis if Olivia Dunham had a twenty-something year old daughter - that would have gone well for sure. So instead, he decided to enjoy the company of his friends and tried to forget all about the weird, almost insane information he had learned that day about the mysterious 'Melissa'.

It had worked while he was at the bar, but now that he was back home, every thought he was having swirled around the events of the day and everything revolved around the intriguing girl.

Melissa.

Or whatever her name was.

_'I'm imagining you with red hair. You kinda of remind me of her'_ The sentence popped into his mind. He had said that to the girl at his uncle's diner. Now it made more sense that she would reminded him of his colleague Olivia Dunham. But apparently that was the only thing that made sense.

That she seemed to be the daughter of Peter Bishop also explained why the Secretary was so interested in her. She was his granddaughter. But her age simply didn't add up, among many other things.

How on earth could Olivia Dunham have a twenty-something year old daughter? A girl whose father also happened to have disappeared more than two decades ago, when he himself was a young boy?

Maybe she had been abducted by Aliens and then inseminated with Peter Bishop's semen, which meant that he too would have been kidnapped by little green men. He actually found that idea quite appealing, but he shook it off. _'Too many X-Files re-watches Danny boy'_ Daniel thought to himself.

He slumped on his couch and huffed once more, he should get up, take a shower and go to bed. Maybe he could make more sense of things after a good night's sleep. However, the couch was growing more and more comfortable by the second. His eyelids slowly drooped as his blinking slowed, and the sweet and comforting feeling of impending slumber settled over him.

But just before he slipped into full sleep, something pulled him from his near unconscious state. To his right, on top of his desk, a blinking green light flashed on his terminal, indicating that he had incoming messages.

He considered ignoring it until the morning. He could sleep right there on his couch for all he cared. But the damn light was getting on his nerves, so he got up and walked towards his desk. Daniel touched the screen and the terminal came to life.

A message from Huertas was waiting for him. He had forgotten all about the request the NYPD Detective had made to the Lewiston rental company that morning, enquiring about the car Melissa had rented.

The New York PD Detective had remembered to ask for the travel log of the vehicle. Rental companies tracked their vehicles via satellite GPS and it was known by Law Enforcement Agencies that they often kept the travel logs for weeks and even months, after the leasing agreements had been made.

With the excuse that the car may had been involved in activities that threatened the security of the country, the rental service had been eager to cooperate. Nowadays law enforcement had easy access to almost every movement regular citizens made. It scared Daniel to think about it, even if it made his job so much easier.

Daniel opened the attached file, containing the log. It was very detailed, with lines of text showing timestamps, locations and road identification. It described Melissa's voyage and each stop she had made. Alongside this information was a map that highlighted the route she had taken from Lewiston to New York.

"What the..." he muttered to himself as he read the log. There was a sizable gap in it.

The day after leaving Lewiston, the vehicle had stopped in the state of Minnesota on what appeared to be a secondary road. This occurred at precisely at 10:42am on Saturday.

The weird thing was that the next line showed the car was in New York, in the middle of Manhatan, just shy of twenty four hours later, at 10:19pm.

About thirty five hours were unaccounted for.

The map with Melissa's route was even more peculiar. There was absolutely nothing between the two points, as if the car had been 'lifted' from one location and dropped into to the other.

Daniel opened up another window on his terminal and pulled up a satellite map of the area where the car had stopped in Minnesota. He examined the location and discovered that there was nothing significant there, just trees and a few farms. A few miles back on the route she'd taken, there was a small town called Granite Falls, but she had passed through without stopping. Instead she apparently chose to stop in the middle of nowhere a few miles outside of the town.

After that stop and before the car's 'appearance' in New York, there was nothing in the log. Had someone erased the data? For what purpose and why scrub just a portion of the route?

One moment the vehicle was in Minnesota, near the border with Dakota, but all other information was absent until it reappeared in middle of Manhatan, New York. What had happened during those thirty five hours?

The log showed that the car had 'arrived' in New York less than an hour before Melissa had come by Fringe Division for her _'visit'_ that Sunday. It seemed that the more Daniel tried to dig up information about Melissa, the more questions he was left with, all without a single answer. Not to mention how unbelievable, insane even, everything he had learned seemed to be.

He felt horribly off balance and was not at all sure of what the hell he'd got himself in the middle of. Nothing made sense any more. He was not even certain he wanted to know anything more about Melissa.

With a tired huff, he turned his terminal off feeling in dire need of a good night's sleep. Daniel turned towards his room, intent on nothing more than dropping into bed when his heart almost leapt out of his chest.

The man with the suit and fedora, the same guy he had spotted in the parking garage earlier, was standing a few feet in front of him.

Daniel quickly took his gun out of his holster and pointed it at the man. "How did you get in?"

"How did you get in?" came the overlapped response.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Who the hell are you?" Again the words of the intruder matched his own.

"How..."

"How..."

Daniel stopped mid-sentence. His mouth agape, taken aback by the strangeness of the situation.

The pattern repeated, the man kept pace, saying everything Daniel said at exactly the same time, like if he could read his mind and knew precisely what he was about to say.

Aside from this, the guy's complexion was strange, his skin was pale, almost sickly white. He had no eyebrows and appeared to have no hair under the fedora, just as Daniel had suspected from the glimpse he'd got of him back at the garage.

If he thought things had been weird that day, _this_ encounter had just raised freaky to a whole new level.

"What do you want?" Daniel asked and for the first time the man didn't mimic his speech.

The 'fedora' man tilted his head slightly to the left. He looked down, then raised his head staring at Daniel once more. "The girl is important. The future of mankind depends on her."

His speech was slow and monotonic, devoid of emotion.

"You must help her when the time comes. Otherwise she will die before she can fulfil her destiny."

* * *

**A/N Sorry it took me so long, but to make up to all of you, this is my longest chapter yet. Hope you all enjoy.  
Thanks for all the positive reviews on the previous chapter. I really wasn't expecting so much feed-back.  
It was much appreciated and a big incentive to keep the story going.  
I also rearranged the formatting of the last chapter. I still wasn't happy with it. Hope it reads better now.  
No need to go through it again, tough, if you already read it.  
Like always, Crys was a very important part on the making of this chapter. I owe you big time mate!**


	28. Date Night

**A/N I channelled my inner Elialys to write this chapter. You've been warned (But it's still T rated, though. For the most part. And no angst also)**

**Chapter 28 – Date Night.**

"Remind me why we didn't go out on a date like regular people do?" Peter questioned as he scooped up the single card just dealt onto the table before him.

He and Olivia had retreated from the lab, to her apartment. Dinner had been devoured and drinks had been free flowing. By Olivia's suggestion, a game of strip poker had been initiated, and that had been something Peter hadn't made the slightest effort to hide his pleasant surprise.

So now they found themselves sitting on the floor of her living room, facing each other across the coffee table. Olivia had taken up the side in front of her sofa, while Peter took the opposite side, closer to the centre of the room. They'd agreed on a relaxed version of the five card draw variant, with a double draw. Quickly replacing the cartons containing just remnants of their incredible Damiano's takeout dinner - picked up on the way to her apartment - with a deck of cards and a couple of glasses of decent bourbon.

"Because we are not regular people." Olivia raised her right eyebrow, her lips quirking slightly upward in a small smile. She sipped at her whisky. "Besides the last time we tried that, it didn't go so well."

Peter smiled back and shook his head slightly, keeping his focus on his cards.

The memory of their attempted date, after returning from Jacksonville, crossed Olivia's mind. It felt good to finally be able to talk about it without things getting awkward. They had even reached the point where they cloud joke about it.

Peter reached for his drink and took a moment to enjoy it before replying, "Still, I wouldn't peg you for someone who would wilfully indulge in a strip poker match." The whisky lent the timbre of his voice a little extra roughness, which Olivia found delicious.

"Ordinarily I'm not," Olivia commented with a shrug. "But the last time we played for Walter's stash of Necco candy wafers, I seem to remember I whipped your ass," she recalled with a crooked smile, causing Peter to raise his eyes from his cards and regard her, yet he remained silent.

"So I wondered; did you just lack the proper incentive to try to beat me?" Olivia taunted. She discarded one of her cards, before taking another from the deck on the table.

"Yeah, I definitely did, because it's working out really well," he snorted. Peter had proceeded to discard a second card, sliding it back across the table towards Olivia. In turn, she selected the top card from the deck and tossed it back towards him. Despite the fact that he'd managed to keep his expression unreadable, not giving her the slightest hint about the cards he was holding throughout the game, Peter had been left wearing only his pants and boxers. If the game continued on current form, it was only a matter of time until he would also lose those last remaining garments.

Olivia chose to replace two of her cards and she, on the other hand, was still fully clothed; although she had loosened the two top buttons of her shirt sometime during the game, but only because she had chosen to do so. Funnily enough that had occurred sometime after Peter had become naked from the waist up.

Hands completed, Olivia placed her cards face up on the table. "Full house." She bit her lower lip, a winning smile blooming on her face. "Come on Bishop, show me yours," she requested suggestively.

"I'll show you all right." He placed his hand of cards on the table face down without even bothering to show them and stood up. Peter unbuckled his belt, then proceed to slowly unbutton his trousers, making a show out of it. Olivia covered her mouth with a hand, trying to stifle a giggle. But she was unable to hold it for long, especially when Peter started to perform a little 'striper dance', which to his credit, he actually seemed to be good at. Olivia wondered if one of his many shady jobs in the past had involved him removing his clothes for money. She decided that was one thing that was better not to know.

"There," Peter announced, having peeled his jeans from his legs, standing before Olivia without an ounce of bashfulness, donning only his boxers. "Hope you're happy."

Olivia took her time appraising him, her eyes salaciously devouring his so very nearly naked body. She shook herself, remembering that this was not over yet and that if she allowed herself to become distracted by Peter, then she could yet lose the upper hand. She decided it was time to play him at his own game.

She too got up and rounded the table to approach Peter, crowding in close enough that their bodies almost touched, but heedful of maintaining the tension crackling between them without touching. Not yet. She craned her neck to whisper in his ear, "I'll be happy when I win."

She pulled back half a step and fished in her pocket, from which she withdrew a dollar bill. She smoothed it flat between nimble fingers, then tucked it inside the waist band of Peter's boxers. Her fingers lingered, slowly tracing the skin beneath the elastic, their gazes locked. Maddeningly, Peter kept his poker face, apparently undisturbed by what she was doing. So Olivia decided to push things a little further. She withdrew her fingers, and moved them to the front of his boxers, where she lightly caressed him through the soft fabric with tantalising finger tips.

All the while Peter's face remained impassive and if she could only see his face she would think he remained completely unaffected, but a certain part of his body couldn't care less about maintaining the pretence of disinterest and it reacted immediately to her caress. She felt him hardening beneath her fingertips, even though his face suggested that he continued to remain unruffled.

Olivia was unable to contain her smug victory smile as she backed off, happy with the reaction she'd got from him and in knowing how hard he was having to work to maintain his poker face. She returned to her place at the table satisfied that she had won that little duel too. "Are you going to remain there… standing up?" She raised an eyebrow at him and grabbed the deck of cards, expertly shuffling them.

Peter seemed to be undecided on whether to give a retort, or not, to her pun. It took him a few seconds to make up his mind. "Would you rather that I… stood down?" he asked placing his hands on his hips, effectively framing the prominent bulge tenting his boxers. Olivia was having a hard time not staring.

"I think you should sit down, we haven't finished the game yet," she deadpanned as she dealt, alternating between Peter's hand and her own until each was comprised of five cards. All the while she tried very hard, with only a modicum of success, to keep her attention on the deck.

Peter sat down and accepted his cards. "Of course. I wouldn't want to distract you." He said without taking his eyes from the hand he had been dealt.

Olivia felt her face flushing with heat. His remark had hit the target. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the game, rather than on the almost naked, successfully worked up man across the table. A significant part of her wanted to forget about the game immediately and drag Peter to the bedroom, but Olivia was competitive by nature and she didn't like to leave things unfinished.

She intended to win the poker game and wipe the floor with his sexy, naked ass once more. Then she would have her way with him in the bedroom. Or maybe right there on living room floor.

Images of what she could do with Peter after the game started flooding her brain. What kind of lover he might be. A well-travelled handsome man like him was surely very experienced. She took a deep breath to try to stop that train of thought before it left the station. She took a fortifying drink and refocused on the game.

Olivia lifted her eyes from her cards, intent on asking Peter if he wanted to take cards from the stack, but was halted when she notice that he was staring back at her and had apparently been observing her the whole time. A shrewd smile twitched at the corner of his lips. The bastard knew very well the effect he was having on her and that realisation only doubled her determination to win. She would wipe that smug smile from his face. In order to do that she had to remain focused and keep all lustful thoughts about the man sitting in front of her in check.

There was one subject that would surely help her do that and it was one she was not above using. "Do you think Etta will survive a night with Walter?" she asked, then she pointed to the deck on the table. "Draw?"

"Two," Peter replied and proceeded to discard the unwanted cards from his hand. "She survived the Observers from her timeline, then conquered time travel. So I think she can handle Walter."

Olivia swiftly dealt his cards, then amended her own hand, also drawing two. "Even so, I think Walter can easily be twice as challenging as either of those things."

Peter snorted. "You've got that right. I've been living with the man for the past two years, I know how much of a handful he can be. Even so, I think Etta will have it easy. She is his granddaughter after all and Walter was very quick to accept her. If anything, he's spoiling her. Lavishing her with way too much attention."

"I guess that's probably true." Olivia smiled. She remembered the first night Etta had spent with her, how easily they had bonded and all the things they had confided in each other. "It's funny how... effortlessly Etta fitted into our lives."

Peter smiled and nodded. "It's like she was always here, a part of our weird little family unit."

"Yes," Olivia agreed and her own smile got wider. "That's exactly how I feel. Draw again?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'll take one."

"One for me too," Olivia said as she took a card from the deck. She rested her chin against the knuckles of her hand. "After everything she's been through and what she did for me, for us…" She shook her head slightly. "It's impossible not to admire her. She's so very brave and courageous."

"You failed to mention that she's driven, single minded, relentless..." Peter lifted his eyes from his card to Olivia. "She reminds me very much of someone else I know."

Olivia bit her lower lip, hiding the smile that was threatening to form once more on her face. She opted to ignore his remark. "Anyhow, I'm very fond of her. Even if she wasn't my 'future' daughter, I would like her all the same." She said keeping her focus on her cards.

"I like Etta a lot too and I'm also very fond of her," Peter said. "The only thing that bothers me about Etta is that all of a sudden I have a grownup daughter, one that I even hadn't the fun of making." He wiggled his eyebrows and placed his cards on the table. "Full house." he said with a confident smirk.

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. Then slowly placed her cards face up on the table. "Royal Flush," she revealed wiggling her eyebrows back at him.

Peter looked at Olivia's cards and sighed, shaking his head. He got up without saying a word, but he hardly had time to place his hands on the band of his boxers before Olivia was next to him. "Hu-uh," she hummed with a shake of her head, her hands arresting his, preventing him from discarding that final item of clothing. "This one is all mine."

Olivia slid her hands around to his ass, where they slipped inside his boxers to cup the firm muscles of his buttocks. She used this new leverage to draw him closer to her, delighting in the heat of his skin beneath her palms. Peter stooped to her instinctively, enabling her to press her lips to his. She kissed him with hunger, holding nothing back. She felt his hands in her hair and travelling to her lower back, exploring hungrily.

When they broke the kiss, she smiled. Her ragged breath mimicked Peter's intake of air, his bare chest rising and falling against her breasts.

Then, with a swift move, she finally relieved him of his boxers, allowing them to fall to the floor. "Okay Bishop," she breathed, "the fun starts now."

* * *

"Could you do it again, please dear?" Walter requested, regarding Etta with childlike enthusiasm.

Astrid had dropped them off at the house from the cinema. It had been quite a feat managing to make it to the end of the movie, with Walter protesting aloud against the scientific inconsistencies surrounding the probable workings of Tony Stark's arc reactor, to the point where the usher had threatened to throw them out. Only Astrid and her FBI badge, along with her promise that Walter would remain quiet from that point on, had prevented that from happening.

Even though the old scientist had grudgingly agreed not to talk through movie, every once in a while he would huff and mutter under his breath, things like, _'the indignity of having to witness to such an outrage towards science'_ and that the film-makers and script writers _'were the by-product and illustration of the poor state the American educational system had come to'_.

He had finally stopped after Astrid elbowed him in the arm and thrust a pack of gummi candy strawberries into his hand. Also Etta promised she would show him a few of her abilities once they got home, so long as they got to see the film to the end. The younger Bishop had kept her promise, as Walter had fulfilled his. Once they had arrived home, she used her telekinetic ability to throw the dice of the monopoly game she and Walter had set up.

"Walter, I already did it four times," Etta said shaking her head. "And it's not fun to play Monopoly like this, you're supposed to roll the dice when it's your turn, not me."

"On the contrary my dear!" He pointed his finger at his granddaughter. "This is the most entertaining game I've ever played! And I don't mind you throwing them for me." He winked.

"Fine," she conceded. "But this is the last time." Etta focused her attention on the dice that were next to the game-board. Slowly, they levitated and began lazily rotating in the air. After hovering weightlessly for a few seconds, they suddenly changed direction, now moving at speed towards the table top, as if thrown by an invisible hand.

Walter almost burst with joy. "Seven!" he shouted the number the dice had dictated and clapped his hands. "How remarkable this is!" He move his automobile token on, until it came to rest on Indiana Avenue.

"You just landed on my property Walter, you now owe me seven hundred dollars. How is that remarkable?" Etta said with an amused smile.

"I'm not talking about the game!" He counted out the bills from his stack of money handing it to Etta. "You are remarkable!"

"It's not that remarkable." Etta shrugged. "Besides, because of that, you're pretty much broke."

"My dear, I would gladly go bankrupt just to see you do that again." He winked once more at his granddaughter.

"No Walter, enough with the telekinesis. Regular rolling, with hands only from now on, okay?" Etta grabbed the dice and rolled her turn.

"You should teach Olivia to access and control her abilities," Walter suggested selecting a length of twirled candy from a nearby bag. "Red vine?" he offered.

"No thanks," Etta declined with a shake of her head. "I've been thinking about that, but I'm not sure she would want to." She kept her stare on her grandfather. "Her abilities are intimately linked to a very traumatic period of her life. I know for sure that she doesn't even see them as abilities, but more as a curse."

Walter nodded. His joyful mood had been replaced by a sombre and somewhat guilt-stricken look. He lowered his head and took a bite from his red vine, munching it without saying a word. Etta moved her token, her eyes still fixed on her grandfather. She sighed, chastising herself for bringing up the topic of the Cortexiphan trials. Obviously it was not just a sensitive matter for her mother, but for Walter also.

"I'll speak to her about it anyway." Etta lowered her head to Walter's level and smiled, trying to capture her grandfather's attention. "Donald advised me that I should try to teach her, you know in case something happens to me before we are able to activate the machine. It would be wise to have someone that could replace me."

Walter's focus was immediately drawn back towards his granddaughter. "Do not say that!" The indignant tone of his voice made it seem like someone had just proposed to him that the Earth was flat. "No one can replace you! The same way that no one could replace your mother! You are both special, one of a kind!" Walter waved the remainder of his red vine, pointing it at Etta. "And nothing is going to happen to you, I will not permit it and neither will your parents!"

The younger Bishop stared at her grandfather. With a few words Walter made her experience what she had been missing for the majority of her life, something she had recently found again in the arms of Olivia after she had disclosed her true identity and then again with Peter when he hugged her after he came out of the tank.

The love of family.

Etta reached for Walter's hand across the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thanks grandpa."

"You don't have to thank me my dear." Walter's lower lip trembled and he looked down, perhaps trying to get a hold on his emotions, although he was failing miserably. Etta wasn't sure of what to say, watching with endearment the swirl of emotions displaying themselves on her grandfather's face.

"I consider myself a very fortunate man," Walter finally said, managing apparently to regain a hold on himself. "In spite of all my wrongdoings, the acts I've committed throughout my life, I get to be with my son. Peter may have been born in a different Universe, but he is still my son. I know that I don't deserve him, so I know how incredibly blessed I am for having this chance."

"Walter..." Etta tried to speak, but the old scientist grabbed her hand before she could say more.

He gave a gentle pat on the back of her hand. "Having the chance to meet my beautiful, brave, grown-up granddaughter… is so much more than I've ever deserved. When I die, I'll die a very happy man."

Etta felt her eyes prickle. The broken old man in front of her had just managed melt her heart. She raised herself and stood beside Walter. Then she put her arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The Elder Bishop responded by returning the hug and gave her a gentle pat on her back. Etta let herself be enveloped in her grandfather's arms. The soothing patterns that he rubbed on her back brought up memories of a time long gone. She closed her eyes, allowing them to wash over her; the scent of chemicals and strange food concoctions lingering beneath the scent of washing detergent on Walter's clothing, made the memories even more vivid. She was a small girl once again, protected by her grandfather's arms. A stubborn tear fell from her eyes.

"Now how about some mushrooms?" Walter said as he broke up the embrace.

"Why not?" Etta swiped a hand across her eyes, preventing more tears from falling "Mushrooms sound great," she said with a strained voice.

Walter sprang on his heels and started running towards the kitchen, earning a chuckle from Etta.

But he stopped midway turning to his granddaughter. "You could use your pyrokinesis ability and roast them!"

* * *

Peter's breath was calm and even. What he was experiencing in that moment must have been very close to what a Buddhist would call a 'zen' state of mind. He was even convinced that he had achieved nirvana sometime during the night. For someone who considered himself the opposite of religious, that was quite a feat.

The woman responsible for his recent spiritual experiences was currently tickling his chest as she played with the small hairs she found there. Her lazy actions, along with the fact that they had just concluded yet another session of intense and passionate sex, was not helping him stay awake.

Somehow they had made it to her bedroom, although Peter wasn't quite sure how she successfully managed to steer them in that direction. All his senses went into overdrive as Olivia launched her attack, his surroundings becoming an insignificant blur. All that mattered was the woman making love to him.

Fully sated, laying in a comfortable bed with the warmth of Olivia's naked form partially draped across him; her head resting on his shoulder, while her left leg had settled between and remained entangled with his own, along with fingers of her left hand doodling lazy circles on his chest had the effect of making him undeniably drowsy. But he fought the instinct to surrender to sleep, he wanted to savour the moment for as long as he could, so Peter resisted the urge to close his eyes.

He had spent many nights alone wondering how it would be with her. He had also fantasied a lot. But now he knew that his fantasies hadn't even come close to doing her justice.

Olivia Dunham was a remarkable woman, in every sense of the word, he had known that almost immediately. Therefore, perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised that same passion and intensity she applied to every situation - whatever it may be that she put her mind to - would also be carried over into bed.

Peter just couldn't believe how lucky he was to be the target of her passion, even though the scratches he felt on his back, along with the hickeys he knew would be visible on his neck and collarbone come the morning, served as proof of the reality that he had at last become the focus of her ferocious love.

However, the tenderness with which she had kissed, touched and looked at him during their amorous activities made for a startling contrast. She was both feral like a lioness and gentle as falling snow. That was his Olivia. And he had done nothing to deserve her.

"Are you awake?" Olivia asked, her voice soft and low.

"Hm-hm," he hummed.

Olivia gave a low and throaty chuckle. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a yes." Peter ran his fingers gently through her messy hair. "Honestly, sleeping right now would be great."

"Then sleep." Olivia placed a soft kiss to his shoulder and adjusted herself to rest her head on his chest. "I'm pretty sleepy myself, I think I'll be joining you in no time."

"I rather stay awake."

Olivia raised her head. "Why?" she asked twisting a little so she could see his face. A small frown formed on her face that made her look even more adorable.

"Because you are here with me," he answered as he ran his finger across the crease between her eyebrows, smoothing it away.

Olivia smiled faintly, her eyes fixed on him. Then she raised herself above him, straddling him to bring them face to face. The friction she provoked with her movement caused a stirring within Peter's body once more, despite their fevered activities just a short time ago.

But this time, there were no lustful intentions in Olivia's actions. She put her lips on his, kissing him gently, she ran her fingers through his hair. It was a gesture of tenderness that once more filled Peter with the strongest sense of certainty as to where he belonged and whom he belonged with. It was a feeling that had slowly started to bloom deep within him ever since that same woman had kissed him for the first time, only a few days before, in much the same fashion while a whole universe away.

After weeks of feeling lost and betrayed, she had anchored him to her. Gifting him with a new sense of purpose and belonging. Now, he was certain that he had made the right choice. Peter had never felt so sure of anything before in his entire life.

When they parted, she gently bumped his nose with hers. "Don't tell me you want to go another round," Peter remarked, his hands roaming her back.

Olivia chuckled and shook her head slightly. "Actually I'm a bit... sore." She bit her lip, an apologetic smile lingering on her lips.

"It's okay, we don't have to do anything." And it was true. Peter was content just to be right there holding her.

"No, I… I got you worked up. I'll take care of it." Olivia raised herself and started to slide towards Peter's waist.

But he tightened his hold on her, halting her progression. "Olivia. It's okay really, you don't have to do anything."

"Are you sure? I don't mind… and… well it was my fault..."

"Sweetheart..." Peter cut her off. The use of the moniker made them both smile. She clearly had the same flash back as he had, from their talk at St. Claire's when they first went there to free Walter on that first day in Boston after she had dragged him back to the U.S. So much had changed since then and how different he was now, from that bitter, sarcastic con-man whom had cared only about himself.

"You don't need to." Peter insisted. "You've 'taken care' of me several times already. Besides I'm also sore and right now and I'm aching in muscles I didn't even remember I had."

The shy smile returned to her face.

"Come on, come back up here," Peter urged with warmth in his tone. Olivia complied, raising herself until she was once more face to face with Peter. "Now," he began, staring into her eyes. "Tell me, what was it that you really wanted?"

She seemed uncertain, maybe even reluctant to proceed. "I've been thinking about..." She halted and pursed her lips. Whatever it was it was obvious to Peter that Olivia was not entirely comfortable bring it up.

"Yes?" Peter asked, encouraging her to proceed. He took a lock of her golden hair, pushing it back behind her ear.

"I want you to know that what would have happened - if Etta hadn't come along, how you wouldn't have noticed that _she_ wasn't me..."

"Olivia..." Peter interrupted her and sighed. It made sense that she would be reluctant to bring the issue up, but it was also obvious that there was something which had been troubling her. Enough so that she felt they should talk about it on the night of that momentous occasion marking the cementation of their relationship with the very first time they'd come together.

But before he could say anything else, Olivia put her finger in his lips. "Peter, I know it wouldn't have been your fault. I've told you that before and I'm telling you again." She smiled and gently caressed his stubble, running her fingers through the roughness of the hairs covering his cheeks and chin. "But I think that if it had happened - if Etta hadn't prevented it - in some way it would have been _my_ fault."

Peter looked at her in disbelief. "Olivia you cannot say that. It's not true."

"Yes it is," she contended with a certain nod. The conviction behind her words made Peter's mood swiftly sombre. The same way that the gentle smile Olivia had on her face mere seconds before had imparted him with a mix of sadness and sorrow. It didn't surprise him that she would take the blame for something that wasn't even remotely her fault. He knew that in her mind she had managed to find a flaw in what she believed to be her broken personality; something that she believed could have been the reason for triggering the occurrence - the one that hadn't even happened. So he stayed quiet, waiting to listen to her reasoning and ready to counter her arguments as soon as she finished. He knew that his efforts would not be easily accepted, but there was no way he would let her believe this burden belonged on her shoulders.

"Peter, I'm not very good at this… Relationships. And I'm surely not good at letting people in, not even those I'm romantically involved with" She lifted her hand from his face and once more caressed his hair. Her eyes always fixed on his. "I actually think that's something we have in common. Keeping people at arm's length." She offered another sad smile.

"If I had taken this step with you sooner, like I should have, if I'd let you in… I think that any possibility of you being fooled by my doppelgänger would be less likely to happen" She stopped her ministrations through his hair, then reached for his hand to interlace their fingers. "I want you to know me better, I want to share things with you that I haven't shared with anyone else." Olivia brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed his fingers "And… I would like to know you better too."

Peter stared at her. Once again, Olivia had surprised him. As much as he didn't agree with her guilt surrounding the subject of the 'almost' switch, he understood what she was getting at. And she was right when she said that neither of them had, until then, been good at letting people in. Peter leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "Let's play a game," he suggested.

"A game?" Olivia raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Yeah, the 'full disclosure' game." Peter made a move to raise himself and Olivia mirrored his movements, allowing him to sit up against the headboard, then she straddled his legs so they were face to face once more. He waited for her to adjust herself, then put his arms around her. "You can tell me something about yourself, or ask me or tell me something about me. It can be anything; something that you find relevant or that bothers you, no matter what it is. Then I'll do the same," he explained.

"Okay," Olivia agreed, her smile turning into a more cheerful one. "I'll start." She looked up as if searching her memories. Apparently it didn't take her long to find something she wanted to share. "Remember that day when you called my home to speak with Rachel to talk about some song or whatever and later you asked me if it bothered me?"

Peter chuckled, "Yes, I remember."

Olivia bit her lower lip. "I lied. It did bother me."

"I figured as much." He smiled at her, but again it was tinged with a hint of sadness. At the time, Peter had called her land line intentionally, so that Olivia would know about his friendship with her sister. He wanted to know what her reaction would be and he hadn't been disappointed. Olivia had asked about it the next day and while she had shrugged it off, making out that it had not concerned her, everything about her question and her body language practically screamed the opposite.

But at the time, his insecurities had kicked in and after ruminating on it at length, he couldn't be sure if Olivia was bothered because she was jealous, or if it was because she didn't want her younger sister to get involved with someone like him. It had pissed him off at the time as he wasn't a man who usually felt burdened with insecurities when it came to women. Back then, when their working relationship had barely begun, Olivia had managed to bring out a side of him he thought he didn't have, or had forgotten about long ago.

Even now, when they were both naked in her bed, Peter still wasn't entirely sure why Olivia had been bothered about his friendship with Rachel. "You didn't want your younger sister to be involved with someone with a shady past. I get that," he said with a shrug.

"Peter..." She shook her head. "That wasn't the reason. The truth is… I didn't want to share you with her. I felt this… odd sense of immediate jealousy. I couldn't understand at the time why I was feeling it. We were just friends, but… you were already very important to me. It bothered me to think about you and Rachel together." Olivia bumped her nose on his in an Eskimo kiss, then she caressed his face with the back of her hand. "I was also sad, because of the possibility that you could see my sister as a potential love interest, but not me. Even if I still wasn't ready to see you that way, I mean, it was only a few months after everything that happened with John.

"But I understood why you would choose her. Rachel is more fun than me, so I thought it obvious that you would prefer to go out with her rather than me."

And once more he discovered that Olivia had the power to bewilder. Although it shouldn't come as a surprise that she would think of herself as 'less' than her sister, or that he would choose Rachel over her without a second thought.

Peter tightened his hold on her and gently bumped his forehead in hers. "Hey. You really have no idea how extraordinary you are, do you? You beautiful idiot."

"Peter..." she protested.

But he mimicked what she had done moments before by putting a shushing finger on her lips. "My turn now." He ran his finger over her slightly swollen lower lip, revealing in the feel and stared into her eyes. "You're the first woman I've been with since you brought me back to Boston."

Her emerald eyes gaped at him, obviously surprised by his confession.

"Honestly, I went out a few times during those the first few months when I came back," he further explained, "Living with a crazy scientist twenty-four-seven can really take a toll on you. So on those nights when Walter decided he required homemade recreational drugs to get him to sleep, I would go out because I knew that I could safely leave him alone without him blowing up the hotel. I usually ended up in a bar not far from where we were staying."

The memories of those first outings after returning to Boston flooded him, along with the emotions he'd wrestled with then, mostly anger towards Walter which was a constant companion back then, which now seemed pointless and even unjust. Even after he'd learned of everything that Walter had done. He knew that the old man had only ever acted out of love for him, with the simple intention of protecting him. Walter's actions were the complete opposite of his biological father's.

Coming back to the moment, he noticed that Olivia had kept the intensity of her gaze on him, waiting for him to continue. He pushed the thoughts about both Walters aside. The woman in front of him was more important.

Peter refocused on his memories of those first few months. Sharing a hotel room with Walter and those few occasions when he'd been able to escape from his father. "I would engage with women sometimes," he resumed his train of thought. "Or women would engage with me. But it never led to anything".

"Why not?" Olivia asked.

"Because… they weren't you. I found myself comparing them to you and…" Peter shrugged, "they didn't stand a chance of measuring up. So pretty quickly I would end up losing interest." It had bothered him at the time, how the blonde agent had managed to take hold of his life. Even without any conscious intention to do so, she had turned his world around and somehow put it back, inside out and upside down. With no effort at all, she had even managed to ruin women for him.

And now Olivia had succeeded in getting that confession from of him. But this time he was not bothered by her power over him in the slightest.

She held him with the directness of her eyes. In that moment they were the clearest emerald green, a true window to her soul, one that revealed to Peter every emotion she felt. The exhibit held the power to overwhelm, because each one was without constraint, directed towards him. It took his breath away and made his heart hammer in his chest.

And what he was seeing told him that she felt the same way he felt about her.

The concept of the existence of soul mates had been something that Peter had never believed in. On occasion he had even mocked the idea. But how could he continue to deny such a concept when the connection he felt with Olivia was so real, so palpable, but which also sometimes seemed almost supernatural in its nature.

The craving he felt for her, the need to make her happy – even at the cost of his own happiness if need be - the way that most of the time they understood each other totally, when their only means of communication was an exchange of looks. Never before he had experienced such things with anyone else in the world. In two worlds, to be more precise.

Peter was absolutely sure that this was his soul mate, right in front of him and he knew that no woman could ever replace her if he were to lose her.

"Peter. There's another thing that I want you to know."

He already knew what she was going to say. He wanted to explain to her that there was no need for her to vocalise what she was feeling, how she felt about him. She had shown it, by letting her walls down and granting him a look into her soul.

And then, there was also everything else she had done _for_ him during the past two years.

A year after they met, she had forced her way inside a building filled with people infected with a deadly virus with no known cure at the time. Peter had been among the infected. She had risked her life to try to save them. To save _him_.

Last week she had crossed Universes, not having the slightest idea of what she would find there or if she would even make it back alive. Indeed she had barely survived, only managing to return relatively unscathed because a miracle had presented itself, a marvel that went by the name of Henrietta Bishop.

Olivia had crossed over to an unknown world without a second thought, all because of him. Because of her certainty that he belonged with her.

All this, when put into perspective with the lengths she'd gone to for John Scott, the man she had loved when Peter had met her, was an illustration of her courage, gave a perfect representation of heart and loyalty which made her the exceptional woman she truly was.

She'd already provided him with absolute proof of how she felt about him.

He didn't need her to say anything to know how she felt. He already knew. But he understood her need to set it out in the open. To bare her heart out to him even more then she already had.

"I love you," Olivia said as she reached out for him, her hand running through his hair, gently pulling him towards her. The kiss they shared was languid and soft, it conveyed perfectly, the tenderness and love they felt for each other.

Peter tightened his hold on her. "I have something that I want you to know too," he said as they ended the kiss, though his lips kept brushing against hers as he spoke. He felt her smile. "I loved you first."

Olivia slid her hand to his face to make him look at her. Her eyes were shining with happy tears. She shook her head, her smile widened impossibly. She kept a hold on his face with both her hands, her eyes piercing him. They stayed like that for some time, Peter wasn't sure how long and nor did he care. Olivia was adoring him and he was adoring her back.

Eventually she closed the distance once more and brushed his lips with hers. The kiss started slow once more, but soon it gained a life of its own. Passion mixed with lust and hands roamed each other's bodies.

Soreness be damned, it was time for another round.

* * *

"Come on, hurry up." Liv motioned with her head for Luke to follow her. In a calculated move she'd brought them to New York City's Bronx borough at four in the morning.

In the name of discretion, they had parked their vehicle several blocks away from the antique typewriter store. Approaching cautiously on foot, they canvassed the surrounding area, trying to locate anyone that may be keeping the store under surveillance. Liv's suspicions had been proven right, at that hour, there was no one there. If the FBI was really keeping tabs on the costumers of the store, perhaps even looking for her, they were surely doing it during opening hours.

Liv hurried her pace towards the store, not wanting to waste a second. Time was of the essence. They were dressed in dark clothes that Luke had managed to get for them, and they each had a hood drawn up covering their heads. Immediately, Liv took out her lock picking kit when they arrived at the door and she glanced around checking for anyone that could spot them breaking in.

"Go ahead, I'll keep watch." Luke positioned himself in front and to Liv's right, making it difficult to anyone passing to see what she was actually doing. She nodded and started to work the lock.

"Come on, hurry up," Luke said, nervously, his attention shifting between Liv and the meagre traffic on the street.

"Relax, it's almost done." Liv gave a final twitch and twist with the pick and the lock finally disengaged. "There," she said cracking the door open. "Let's go." Luke went in first and she followed right behind him. The bell attached to the door jingled as it closed it, making the shapeshifter jump. "Fucking bell!" Luke cursed.

Liv reached for Luke's arm and grabbed him, halting their momentum. "What's that sound?" She asked.

"It was just the stupid doorbell." Luke pointed at it above the door.

"Not that," Liv rejected with a shake of her head. "Listen."

They both remained silent. A low intermittent sound could be heard in the background. "What is it? And where is it coming from?" Luke glanced around the store.

Before Liv could answer, the deafening sound of an alarm blared throughout the store.

"Oh for god sakes, a dump like this has an alarm?" Luke shouted so Liv could hear him.

She immediately jumped to action and ran behind the counter, still intent on getting to the typewriter room in the back. "Try to disarm it. I'll get the typewriter."

"How the hell do I disarm this thing?" Luke shouted.

Liv forced the cash register open with a screwdriver and took the key stashed inside. "It's a machine, talk to it and persuade it to shut up"

Luke squinted his eyes at her, obviously not amused by her remark.

Liv ignored Luke's annoyed stare and shrugged it off "Shoot it for all I care. At least go to the window and watch for unwelcome visitors." She hurried her pace and made it inside the room housing the Selectric as quickly as she could. She wrapped the mirror in a towel, and placed it, along with the quantum entangled typewriter inside her backpack.

"Someone is coming!" Luke warned. He was now standing at the entrance of the typewriter room, his eyes wide in panic.

"For fuck sake!" Liv cursed angrily. "Will anything ever go smoothly in this fucking mission?" She hurriedly hoisted the backpack onto her shoulders and walked towards the exit of the room. "Is there a back door?" she shouted to the shapeshifter.

"I've no idea!" Luke snapped, then twisted his head towards the entrance of the store. "They coming in!"

Liv glanced at the entrance and saw trough the dim light coming from the street what appeared to be two uniformed cops with flashlights cautiously moving inside. She quickly grabbed Luke by the arm and pulled him inside the typewriter room. She closed and locked the door behind them.

They both waited, their ears pressed to the door, trying to make out any sounds of indicating the approach of the cops over the still sounding alarm.

Then the infernal racket suddenly cut out, to be replaced by an equally deafening silence as it descended upon them. Liv and Luke exchanged a nervous glance. Outside, someone fumbled with the door handle but the door remained locked and secure.

They almost jumped off their feet when a loud banging erupted against the door. The cops were knocking and not gently. "NYPD! We know you're inside! Slowly open the door and come out with your hands up!"

They stared at each other but neither one of them moved a muscle.

"You better come out now!" The voice on the other side commanded. "SWAT is on its way, believe me that they are not going to be as friendly as us!"

Liv closed her eyes at let out a frustrated sigh. She felt Luke's hand on her shoulder. He leant towards her and spoke in a low voice. "I'll take care of this, give me the key and stay here. We have to be quick."

She nodded and did as he asked. Before he opened the door, Liv grabbed his arm. "Don't kill them, we don't need any more attention from Law Enforcement then we already have."

"I'll try," Luke said. "And thanks for worrying about me."

Liv rolled her eyes. "One last thing…" she paused as she grabbed his hood and lifted it so it covered his head and as much of his face possible, then explained, "If we both get out of this alive, I don't want them to be able to identify."

Luke gave her a puzzled look.

"The body you are… 'wearing' now it's from someone related to my doppelgänger. Someone who's been stalking her for quite some time. That's leverage that I don't want to lose, and I certainly don't want her to know about."

"Okay." Luke nodded. "Wish me luck." He inserted the key in the lock twisted it and swiftly opened the door. Liv pressed herself against the wall beside the door, trying to remain concealed from the cops outside.

"Walk slowly," The first officer instructed. Both men had their guns trained on Luke, along with the harsh beams of their flashlights.

"Is there anyone else inside?" One of the cops asked.

Luke stopped, then answered, "No."

"You better not be lying. Get on your knees, hands behind your head," the other cop ordered.

"I'm not lying." Luke did as the officer requested and knelt on the floor. "But you can check for yourself if you want."

"I will," the cop confirmed as he walked towards Luke taking out a pair of handcuffs. "Right after I take care of you."

The police officer moved in as he'd been trained, keeping out of his partner's line of fire as he grabbed one of Luke's hands and quickly bound his wrist in the metal loop. All the while the other cop kept his gun and the flashlight trained on Luke. When the first cop reached for Luke's other hand, the shapeshifter suddenly sprang off his knees, violently driving his head into the chin of the officer behind who'd been trying to complete the task of restraining him. He felt the guy's teeth clack together sharply as his momentum transferred through the bone of the man's jaw and to his skull. The cop fell unconscious to the floor, blood dripping from his mouth.

The other stared astonished at the scene playing out before him, it took him a couple of seconds to react, but he was still fast enough to fire three rounds, each hitting Luke square in the chest. The Shapeshifter bucked backwards, the impact of the close range shots knocking him to the ground.

The police officer stood frozen to the spot, his hands shaking with adrenalin and his eyes fixed on Luke's apparently inanimate body.

"What the fuck..." The cop muttered numbly when his flashlight picked out what appeared to be thick metallic liquid, flowing from the chest wounds of the crumpled shapeshifter. He was even more surprised when Luke first stirred and then started to get up. "You… you should be dead!" The cop stammered, regarding the shapeshifter with wide-eyed terror.

"Sorry to disappoint," Luke said moving closer. He reached for the cop's gun, who didn't react at all, apparently frozen by shock. Luke ripped the gun from his grip, and with swift efficient actions he ditched the magazine, ejected the round from the chamber and stripped the slide from the body of the weapon. The cop jumped as Luke tossed the useless pieces to the ground at his feet. Then took a step towards the cop.

"No, no, no..." The officer shrank backwards, until he bumped up against one of the store's cabinets.

Luke grabbed him by the shirt with both hands and lifted him effortlessly in the air.

"Oh Jesus, no, please!" The cop babbled as Luke tensed, preparing himself to throw him against the counter.

"Stop!" Liv's voice made Luke halt immediately. She stood next to the unconscious cop, satisfied that the shapeshifter wasn't going to follow through with his intended action, she knelt next to the downed man to check his pulse.

"Let's get them both inside," she motioned with her head towards the room she'd just emerged from. Liv quickly grabbed the unconscious cop and dragged him inside, then waited for Luke to do the same with his partner. The shapeshifter did as she's instructed, manhandling the cop inside, still holding him in a tight grip, though to the guy's evident relief his feet were at least back in contact with the floor.

Once both police officers were inside, Liv slammed the door, locked it and tossed the key behind the counter. "Let's go. Now!" she shouted as she put the backpack on her shoulders once more. They both ran for the exit, disappearing into the city sprawl before backup arrived to complicate matters further.

* * *

Peter woke with a start and it took him a few seconds to realise where he was. He was alone in bed, in _her_ bed. A smile crossed his face thinking of everything that had happened during the course of the previous night. Without a doubt, it had been the most emotionally intense experience of his life.

He and Olivia had laid themselves bare before of each other, both physically and emotionally. They were a couple now, in the fullest sense of the word.

He had never thought much about being a couple with anyone before the blonde agent had crossed paths with him. Until then, he had been just fine on his own. But now the thought of being by himself without Olivia; the simple idea of not seeing her ever again, was enough to make him feel a sensation of dread squirm in the pit of his stomach.

Peter pushed the morbid thought away, ran a hand through his messy hair and made the effort to raise himself, enjoying the stiffness of his muscles as he sat up. Now that the first rays of the morning sun were pouring through the window, he had a different perspective on Olivia's bedroom and carefully took in his surroundings. The previous night he'd not given much attention to anything but the beautiful and very naked woman in front of him. She had remained the sole point of his focus from the moment they entered the room, until the instant he'd fell asleep.

The room was sparsely furnished, decorated with a basic, yet sympathetic palate. The walls were painted in a deep masculine grey, but the effect of that bold colour had been softened massively by her choices of contrasting soft furnishings. A few items dotted around showed that it was no doubt a woman's room; her hairbrush by the mirror, a bottle of lotion on the bedside table and most notably the armchair set in the corner of the room, upholstered in fabric with a cheerful daisy pattern. But unlike every other woman's room he'd ever frequented, it wasn't full of knickknacks, jewellery, make up boxes and other items that women loved so much to decorate their rooms with, the space was orderly and clear of clutter.

It was functional and practical, but by no means cold. So very Olivia.

Peter's attention was attracted by the open doors of her closet. He smiled and tossed aside the comforter, sitting on the edge of the bed to get a better look at its contents.

What he had known for a long time through observation was now confirmed, Olivia didn't own many clothes. Most of the space in her closet was taken up with work wear. The hanging rail was filled in an orderly manner, first with neutral shirts predominantly in white and grey with the odd muted blue one thrown in for variety. Then came the infamous pant suits in black and grey only. Her selection of peacoats, one of which topped off the outfit she wore to work almost every single day were arranged on the rail next. One was a deep navy blue, another dark grey and the third - perhaps her favourite, or at least the one she wore most often - was black.

Apart from these familiar items, there appeared to be one or two dresses on the rail and of course the leather jacket she had worn on the night of their failed attempt at a date after Jacksonville. The rest of the space was taken up with shelves filled with neatly folded apparel; a few pairs of jeans, t-shirts and tank tops and warm sweaters.

There was not a single colour in the entire wardrobe that stood out. Some would say that it was a concession, the result of her striving for success in her career while competing in the boy's club that was the FBI. The pant suits hid her feminine curves, allowing her to almost be seen as 'one of the boys'.

Almost.

They also enabled her to avoid the scrutiny or worse still, the lascivious looks, which might perhaps be garnered had she chosen to wear more 'feminine' garments, from the more unscrupulous men working with her.

Olivia was a very beautiful woman with a slim, athletic body. Even in a pant suit that much was obvious. But her work outfits were anything but revealing. Her choice of loose fitting jackets and pants were probably more of a consideration of comfort and functionality than an attempt at dissuading lecherous attentions of others, even though he knew she would much rather avoid those too.

For Olivia it was very important to be recognized for her talent and competence as an investigator and not because of her curves. In her environment, populated with predominantly male agents, the suits helped her maintain that distinction.

While all this was all true, Peter also knew that there was another meaning behind her suits, and those neutral colours she wore day after day. They were her camouflage, her way not to stand out. They shielded her from all unwanted attention and prevented her from standing out. She intended for the world to forget she existed and wanted nothing more than for it to leave her be. It was part of her coping mechanism no doubt developed in response to her dealing with the traumatic effects of her inclusion in the Cortexiphan trials when she was a child.

Peter pondered on the workings of chance and circumstance that had contributed to inclusion in those trials, some of which he knew about, but others escaped him, along with the reasons the trials had begun in the first place. They had probably barley begun to scratch the surface of discovery about those events, more than two decades on. During the course of their tests, Walter and Bell had singled Olivia out as the most promising candidate and their focus on her had intensified. Those events had changed her radically and left an indelible mark on her for the rest of her life.

The suits and neutral colours were an unconscious attempt to not be singled out by anyone else again in her life. She didn't want to be chosen ever again.

Peter's smile had disappeared from his face by then. Of course the suits hadn't prevented a bastard like David Robert Jones from stalking her and making her relive the nightmare that had been the Cortexiphan trials and all its after effects. On the contrary, that single event resulted in her becoming the fixation of a delusional maniac, despite her best efforts to go unnoticed. It would continue to set her apart from the remainder of the population for the rest of her life. Olivia Dunham could be considered one of a kind, every bit as much as he could.

A deep ache for Olivia invaded Peter's being, as he considered everything she had gone through during her troubled childhood and which had been compounded by all the events and revelations piling upon her since she had joined Fringe Division.

The memory of that shared moment from their childhood, recalled while he was in the tank, resurfaced once more; Olivia with a blackened eye, the result of her stepfather's abuse, all alone in a field of tulips, with no one to turn to for help.

Peter clenched his fists. She had suffered through such a lot as a child. From her stepfather to Walter and Bell. He wondered if it was a good idea to tell her about the memory of them together as children. Peter had almost told her during the stake out at Feller's place, but now he was seeing things from a different perspective. She had suppressed the memory for a reason. That same memory was intimately linked with incredibly traumatic events, and he wondered if Olivia might still be better off not remembering.

Peter sighed, trying to push away his dark thoughts. They'd had a wondrous night together and he was not going to ruin the morning with gloomy thoughts about something that had happened a long time ago. Full disclosure or not, this was something Peter wasn't going to share with her. At least not for the time being.

Right now Olivia was happy and he intended to do everything in his power to make damn sure she stayed that way.

Scanning the room, Peter spotted his clothes, which she had apparently left for him. He remembered quite clearly discarding them on the living room floor during their poker game, but now they were neatly folded on the bench at the foot of the bed. And just like that, the smile returned to his face. However he soon noticed that the only garments there were his boxers and jeans. Nothing else. He pulled them on and made his way to the bathroom to freshen up.

He stood in front of the mirror reading the marks Olivia had left on him the previous night. As he'd suspected, two hickeys were plainly visible on his neck and collarbone and the scratches on his back made it seem like he had been in a fight with a cat. Olivia had branded him alright. Peter shook his head and smiled, he didn't mind having them, not at all. She had already laid a claim to him a long time ago, even if she hadn't been aware of it at the time. He left the bathroom with a spring in his step, evident even while strolling leisurely towards the kitchen.

When he got there, he stood at the entrance, leaning against the door frame enjoying the sight before him. Olivia was wearing his missing shirt – and apparently not much more than that. She sat on one of the kitchen stools, one leg crossed over the other as she leant towards the counter, fully engrossed in the crossword from the morning paper. While she worked the clues, she chewed the end of her pen and of course she had a mug of steaming coffee right beside her paper.

The shirt was big on her, but it was not long enough to cover up much. Her long legs, from mid-thigh were fully exposed, leaving very little to Peter's imagination. Not that he needed to imagine what was under the shirt. He had seen it, felt it and tasted it all the night before. Still it was one of - if not the - most sexy scenes he had seen in his life.

Olivia had one elbow resting on the counter, her head supported by her hand. Her blonde hair formed a soft golden curtain across her face, giving her an ethereal look. Peter could see how at ease and relaxed she was. He couldn't remember ever seeing her like that before. An overwhelming feeling of happiness overcame him, chasing away any residual dark thoughts about Olivia's childhood still lingering in his mind.

Knowing that he was, in part, responsible for her current demeanour made his heart swell and gave him a sense of pride in himself that he had rarely felt throughout his troubled life. This was something else new to him; he couldn't remember ever experiencing feelings like the ones he had in that moment. So happy and carefree. For as long as he would live, he would never forget the previous night, nor what he was experiencing in that moment. He wished the world would stop, leaving them both in their perfect bubble of bliss.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Olivia said without taking her eyes from the newspaper.

"I was looking for my shirt." Peter gestured with his head to her commandeered attire. "Found it."

Olivia smiled, still not looking at Peter. "So, all the time you've been standing there, that was what you were staring at?"

Peter smiled back and shook his head. "Do you know how corny, cheesy and cliché this is?" he said gesturing to the state of undress they found themselves in - him wearing just his jeans, bare chested and her wearing only his button up shirt. "Not to mention that right now I'm freezing."

Olivia kept smiling, but she remained focused on her crosswords, apparently unperturbed by their exchange. "I was in the mood for corny and cheesy," she said, then finally looked up at him. "But if you're that cold, maybe you should come get your shirt back." She bit her lower lip, teasing him.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that's not such a good idea," Peter commented while stalking slowly towards her.

"Why not?" Olivia raised an eyebrow.

"Because I'm sure that there's a law somewhere against stripping an FBI Agent. I wonder what the penalty might be for such an offence."

"If that were the case you would already be in handcuffs, Mr. Bishop. I mean, after what you did last night."

Peter had already closed the distance between them, one of his hands stretched out to travel up the smooth skin of Olivia's leg while the other reached her lower back, and soon eased underneath the shirt, one of his fingers tracing the hem of her panties.

"If I remember correctly you were responsible for most of the stripping..." he then placed a soft kiss on her exposed neck. "...of both of us, Agent Dunham."

Olivia hummed and turned her head slightly to allow him better access. "I'm a Federal Agent," she said with a husky voice and smiled. "It was my duty to make sure you hadn't any concealed weapons in your possession."

Peter stopped his ministrations on her neck and stared her in the eyes. "So that was what you were looking for in my boxers? I hope you were satisfied with what you found."

Olivia gave him a soft slap to the arm, still she couldn't help a snort of laughter from escaping her. She turned to him and cupped his face, a wide smile on her lips that reached and lit up her eyes.

Peter stood mesmerized, staring at the beautiful woman in front of him. He reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. She responded reaching for his head with her left hand, running her fingers through his hair.

"I have something to confess." Olivia kept caressing Peter's hair, gently scratching her nails over his scalp. "Since we started working together, I've always wanted to do this."

"Scratch my head?" Peter chuckled.

"No silly." She shook her head. "I wanted to run my fingers through your hair." Olivia extracted her right hand from Peter's grip and as if to show how much she enjoyed the feel of his hair, she continued her exploration with both hands.

Peter closed his eyes and put his arms around her, revelling in the feel of her hands in his hair. Until he felt her grip tightening and his head being directed downwards. He opened his eyes to find Olivia's face less than an inch from his, their noses almost touching. Her lips brushed his as she spoke, "As I got to know you better..." she whispered, "...running my fingers through your hair was not the only thing I wanted to do to you."

"What else did you want to do?" Peter kept his voice at the same level as Olivia's.

"This." She pressed her lips firmly to his. The kiss was slow, but passionate. Olivia took her time, prolonging the moment for as long as possible, until the need for air forced them to part.

Peter bumped his forehead on hers. "I'm flattered that you like my hair and my lips so much." Olivia rewarded him with a smile. "But, I have so many other body parts in need of attention and adoration." Peter gave her one of his trade mark smirks.

Olivia raised an eyebrow "Bishop, you're about to get lucky, so don't ruin it."

Peter chuckled. "Actually, I have something to confess also," he said.

"Hm-mm?" Olivia hummed.

"What you did, just now…"

"What did I do?" she asked.

"Being bossy." Peter tucked a loose strand of her golden hair behind her ear. "You have no idea how much that turns me on."

Olivia chuckled, "I guess I'm about to find out." She wiggled her eyebrows.

They kissed once more, this time the lust that had been simmering below the surface took over. Their tongues battled and found themselves equally matched.

But it was not the need to breathe that interrupted the kiss, it was Peter's cell phone. The offending ringtone was emanating from the living room where the apparatus had been discarded the night before.

"And then again, maybe not," Olivia said as she very reluctantly pulled back from the delights of Peter's mouth.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "There's only one person in both universes with such impeccably bad timing. I give you one guess as to whom that is."

"Walter." Olivia grinned, giving him a last kiss on the lips before finally letting him go.

Peter caressed her hair and responded to the kiss with another one to her forehead. He went to the living room to retrieve his phone, and the screen confirmed it was indeed the elder Bishop. He picked up the call while walking back to the kitchen. "Yes Walter."

_"Son!"_ Walter began urgently _"I completely forgot to remind you to use protection!"_

Peter rolled his eyes. "Don't worry Walter we've got that covered, but thanks for the heads up."

_"Not that I would mind having another grandchild, Henrietta is such a charming, beautiful, wonderful young woman. In case you decide to give her a brother or a sister, perhaps I should make you aware that Agent Dunham should be reaching her ovulation period within a week. I can teach you many marvellous techniques and positions for intercourse, which should increase the odds of successfully achieving impregnation by at least thirty percent!"_

"Walter, how the hell do you know when Olivia..." Peter had reached the kitchen door, Olivia shifted her gaze to him when she heard her name. "You know what? I don't want to know." He waved the idea away, rubbed his neck with his free hand and sighed. "Is Etta already up? If she is, I want to talk to her."

_"She's coming down the stairs right now son, she's going to have the surprise of her life! I'm making her blueberry pancakes with my secret recipe!"_

Peter heard the soft clang of the phone being put down followed by Walter's voice from afar _"Henrietta dear, good morning! Your father would like to talk to you."_

After a few seconds, he heard the phone being picked back up but was greeted with nothing but silence. "Etta?" he asked after a few more seconds. "Are you there?"

_"Err... yes."_

"Is everything okay?"

_"Yeah sure, everything's fine."_

Despite her assurance to the contrary, Peter could sense some awkwardness in Etta's voice. He wondered what Walter could be doing.

Until it hit him.

"Wait a minute. Walter's making his 'secret' blueberry pancakes recipe. He usually does that on Tuesdays when he cooks... Oh for god's sake! Etta tell me something."

_"Yeah?"_

"Walter is naked right now, isn't he?" There was silence from the other end of the line. "Etta?" Peter insisted.

_"Yeah he is."_ Etta finally admitted letting out a sigh. _"I think I'm going to need therapy."_

Peter chuckled. "Could you put him back on the phone please?"

_"Sure."_

Peter heard the sound of the phone changing hands.

_"Hello, this is Dr. Walter Bishop"_

"I know it's you Walter, now do you think you could go and put on some pants? I think your granddaughter would appreciate it greatly."

_"Nonsense Peter, you know very well that I do my best work in the kitchen when I'm naked. Besides, I'm certain that from where - or better yet when - she comes from, people have learned to appreciate how liberating nudity truly is."_

"I'm sure they have. But we're in the present, so for the time being, please wear pants Walter."

_"Oh don't be such a prude! I'm sure a beautiful young woman like your daughter as seen plenty of men's penes by now!"_

Peter heard Etta making a choking sound in the background followed by the clang of the pone being dropped.

_"Are you okay dear? Is something wrong with your coffee?"_ Peter heard his father's voice from afar, once again he had left the phone.

The sound of Etta coughing came next. _"I'm okay and the coffee is fine, don't worry Walter, but really, could you put on some pants?"_

Peter rubbed his forehead trying to ease the tension suddenly weighing on him.

_"Does my penis disturb you dear? Oh! You prefer vaginas, is that it?"_

_"Oh God! Please Walter, just put on some pants!"_

Peter hung up the phone. "I think I better head home right now, before Walter manages to do what the Observers were unable to." He gave Olivia an apologetic smile.

"And what is that?" she cocked an eyebrow.

"Mentally break Etta," Peter sighed.

"I heard you telling him to put on some pants. Don't tell me that he's naked?" Olivia made a disgusted face.

"Yeah, he decided to cook naked because he does that every Tuesday."

Olivia cocked her head. "But today is Thursday."

"According to Walter, Tuesday is when he cooks better, so I assume he wants to recreate his best form while making breakfast for Etta."

"So he decided to cook naked. Oh God. You'd better go then," Olivia said and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Peter was about to turn when his phone rang again. He picked it up without looking at the caller ID. "Walter, I'm coming, I just need to get a shower..."

_"This is Nina Sharp, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something."_

"No, Ms. Sharp… You're not interrupting anything." Peter exchanged looks with Olivia. She raised an eyebrow at the sound of the name of Massive Dynamic's acting CEO. "What can I do for you?" Peter asked.

_"I gather that you are still intent on coming to New York today, to visit Massive Dynamic?"_

"Yes." Peter had called Nina the day before, asking to use Massive Dynamic's resources to read Feller's disk. Off course he hadn't explained that the disk belonged to a shapeshifter.

_"Will Walter be accompanying you?"_

Peter frowned at Nina's question. "No."

_"Would it be an inconvenience if asked you to bring him along?"_

"You want me to bring Walter?" Peter raised his eyebrows at Olivia who was following the conversation from his side alone. She must also have read the confusion, mixed with a hint of mistrust from his face. She responded shaking her head and offering a sympathetic, yet no less baffled shrug.

Nina Sharp was now very far from the mysterious and somewhat shady person Peter had assumed she was at the beginning of their relationship – indeed she had actually proven to be a valuable ally in the 'war' against the Other Side. But there was always something about her that made Peter's senses tingle with the urge to exercise caution. He had the impression that there was often a hidden agenda behind each choice she made and every offer of help she committed to. And Peter knew that Olivia felt the same way about the woman.

_"So he could be present for the reading of William Bell's will,"_ Nina explained.

That, Peter hadn't been expecting. The image of William Bell sacrificing himself so they could cross back over to their Universe flashed into his mind.

_"Peter..."_ Nina pressed on, _"If you could bring him, I'll make arrangements for William's will to be read today. William left explicit instructions that Walter should be present."_

Nina paused for a few seconds. Waiting for Peter to respond, but he'd been rendered silent, so caught off guard as he was by what he'd just heard. Nina resumed her speech, _"I think it would be in the best interests of everyone if we could expedite this matter and… move on."_

Peter could hear a hint of sadness in her voice and in that instant, all thoughts of mistrust and 'hidden agendas' with regard to Nina disappeared completely. Peter felt like a bit of an asshole for harbouring those suspicions to begin with. "Yes… of course Ms. Sharp, absolutely. I will bring my father with me, don't worry."

_"Thank you Peter. I'll be expecting you both. I'll arrange for a private jet to take you to New York and after for it to return you back to Boston. I'll send the details to this number when I have them."_

"That's very kind of you Ms. Sharp. I'll see you in a while then." Peter said and hang up the call.

Olivia had kept her stare on him. Her own demeanour had changed along with Peter's own state of mind. The suspicious look having disappeared from her face, now she displayed only curiosity and concern. "What was that all about?" She asked.

"William Bell's will," Peter explained.

Olivia frowned, yet she remained silent, expecting Peter to elaborate.

Peter satisfied her interest, "Apparently one of Bell's requests was for Walter to be there for the reading of his will. Nina is going to make arrangements to do it today at Massive Dynamic. I'll have to take Walter with me to New York."

"Don't tell me Bell left Massive Dynamic to Walter," Olivia snorted.

"Walter the owner of the most powerful company on Earth? I don't know if that's a pleasant thought or terrifying prospect." Peter chuckled and shook his head.

Olivia was about to speak when her phone rang. They both rolled their eyes in synchronicity, which in turn made them both smile.

Olivia pick it up from where it was placed on the kitchen counter. She flashed the screen showing the caller ID to Peter. He grunted when he saw whom it was on the other end of the line.

Broyles; which could mean a new case.

"Dunham." Olivia said as she picked up the call.

As she listened she nodded her head several times, and gave short responses, mostly consisting of hums of acknowledgement and curt 'ok's. Peter watched as the line between her eyebrows formed into a deep crease. Something was definitely up.

"Yes sir, I'll be there as soon as possible," she finally said and hung up the call. She looked back to him as she filled him in on the details, "The typewriter store in the Bronx that Etta said _she_ was using to communicate with the Other Side..." Olivia began.

"What about it?" Peter asked.

"It was broken into last night."

Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Broyles wants me there ASAP," Olivia informed him. "So I guess we're all going to New York," she finished with a shrug.

"Nina was kind enough to provide us with the use of a private jet." Peter closed the distance between them and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "Wanna hitch a ride?"

"Oh yeah. So long as it's free." She smiled and turned her head as Peter peppered kisses on her neck.

"Hmm-mm," Peter hummed and smoothed her face in his hands. "We could make out on the plain." He wiggled his eyebrows evocatively.

"Yeah, that was the first thing that crossed my mind. Especially with Walter there." She gave him a quick peck on the lips, then grabbed his hands taking them from her face and motioning for him to let her go.

Peter took the hint reluctantly and turned towards the living room. "You have no idea how happy it would make him to watch us make out," he said as he walked away.

He heard Olivia snort. But before he left the kitchen, she called after him. "Peter?" He turned his head in her direction and stood frozen at the sight before him.

She had peeled off his shirt and was now standing in the middle of her kitchen in only her panties. "Here." She threw his shirt at him, which in his stupefaction he missed entirely, instead it collided with his chest and fell to his feet. Olivia chuckled wickedly, "Go get a shower and get dressed."

Meanwhile Peter remained absorbed in Olivia, his eyes wandered her body from head to toe and all places in between.

"Your daughter is being traumatized by your father, remember?" she chided, "Hurry up!" The serious tone she adopted argued both with the smirk her lips sported and the glittering of her eyes.

Peter just stood there, nodding dumbly. Olivia passed by him and slapped him on the butt. "In case you don't remember, the rest of your stuff is in the living room. You can use the shower in the guest room while I'm using mine." She swiftly escaped, jogging towards her bedroom before Peter could gather himself.

She hovered at her doorway however, just long enough to shed her panties, making a show of standing there in all of her glory at the entrance of her room. She laughed as she went in and closed the door behind her. And just like that, her beautiful and sexy body disappeared from Peter's sight.

Peter felt a wave of happiness that almost made him cry. Olivia Dunham was giggling.

But soon staring at the closed doors of her bedroom reminded him about who was in there in a state of total undress, now beyond his reach. He let out a shaky, frustrated sigh and he looked down towards his waist. "I know buddy, cold shower coming up."

* * *

**A/N This one was quite a ride to write. And also for Crys to work on it. Hope everyone likes it.  
Just out of curiosity, the scene between Peter and Olivia in her kitchen, in the morning after they'd spent the night together, was written two years ago when I started writing this story. I finally got there!  
****One of the motives that drove me to start this story, was wondering how would things be between these two if the 'switch' hadn't taken place.  
I hope I did them justice.  
Anyhow, thanks for all the nice reviews in the last chapter. They are such a motivation to carry on with this story.  
Needless to say that this chapter also owes a lot to Crystalline Green's editing and corrections.  
It wouldn't be the same without her touch.  
I owe you big time mate!**

**PS: In case you are wondering, I have already written the epilogue.**


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